


Outrage

by puppy_on_crack



Series: The Rage Universe [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Humor, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Abuse, Rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-02-06 07:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12812730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppy_on_crack/pseuds/puppy_on_crack
Summary: Sequel to Rage.Fourth year is finally over and Harry can relax. Things are starting to look up, right until they aren't. Fifth year is coming and with it does a new villain, dressed in pink and hellbent on making Harry seem a liar. Under her draconian rule Harry will have to balance his own mental health, a headmaster ignoring him, and old/new friends. This is bullsh*t.Severus Snape/ Alexander Dawsen





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello again! By popular demand I have begun the second installment of the Rage series. Hopefully, you will love this one as much as the other one. In the same way as the first, I have no planned plot and no sure schedule. Instead I am going to wing it again. Feel free to comment, I love comments! This chapter is a bit expositional and slow. Hopefully it will pick up in a little.

It was always weird being in someone else’s house during an argument. Even more awkward when the argument was completely silent due to a charm. Harry was sitting in a chair in the living room, trying not to watch Professor Snape and Mr. Dawson bicker behind their invisible shield. He tried not to stare, resisting the urge to bend his upper body and watch their lips for word from where he was sitting. Instead he was just glancing at them out of the corner of his eye, desperate to see what the emotional level was.

For the most part it did not look bad. Harry was so used to his uncles purple faced ranting that he was surprised to see an argument that wasn’t accompanied by wildly swinging arms. Arguments in the Dursley house were the types that had the walls shaking and ears ringing. Instead Snape stood still, back straight and shoulders wide. His arms were crossed across his chest, a heavy glare on his face. Alex was standing with the same wide dominate stance but his arms weren’t crossed. Instead he was gesticulating with sharp hand motions to make his points. From what he could see they weren’t yelling. Though he probably would have been more surprised if they were. Instead Snape would stare stone-faced as Alex spoke, interjecting occasionally.

Harry turned back to the room. He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out Labyrinth. He let the snake curl around his hand, complaining weakly about the cold shock of air that came from leaving his cotton cave. He watched the snake start to slowly circle up his arm, doing his best to ignore the small niggling of fear in the bottom of his stomach.

O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O

“What in the world were you thinking?” Snape hissed after he had commanded Harry to sit and put up a sound barrier. Alex scoffed, rocking back on his heels. His immunity to the soul shattering glare rising up in full force.

“I was thinking that I would make the best of a bad situation. That you told me that I could try and find a solution and found that there was one.” He snipped back.

“How is this a viable solution? He is in danger here. There is a reason that he was going back to his Aunts’ house. The blood wards were the strongest protection that we had to shelter the boy.” Snape sneered.

“We have protection here. At least here he will be safe from known physical threats, instead of potential ones. Can you honestly say you would rather him there? I am not a fool Severus. Do you honestly think that I would bring him here without bolstering our wards?” Alex griped back.

“Enough to keep out the Dark Lord?” He was slightly surprised when a roll of parchment was tossed at him. He opened in and scanned the list. He hummed as he traced a finger over some of the words. “You managed to get all of these in the last few days?”

“Given enough monetary compensation I found a Warder who had some extra time in his schedule.” He explained.

“Some of these are blood wards. Which I have been duly informed are not legal.” Snape quirked an eyebrow.

“Which we only have to worry about if a ministry employee comes for an inspection.” Alex reasoned.

“I do not know some of these wards.” Snape said, a slightly interested tone. Suspiciously he looked up at his husband. Severus’s knowledge of wards had always been well fed and there wasn’t much that he didn’t at least have a small basis on knowledge. Surely if the warder was willing to do blood wards there would be little else he would not be willing to do with enough money. He was not the only one in this household with a working knowledge of the darker side of magic. Alex shrugged and looked coy.

“Yes there are some things in this world that you do not know.” Snape didn’t comment on the fact that he did not answer the unsaid question. Though he could not rightly say anything because he technically didn’t ask.

“And you think all of these will be sufficient.”

“No.” Alex answered promptly, not one to fall into such a simple trap. “I think it leaves us enough time for us to escape. You said it yourself. No wards are impervious indefinitely. But all we really need is to be able to get out to a safe house. Those wards would not keep anyone out forever. They will, however, keep the Dark Lord out for at least fifteen minutes if he was the one trying to break them, five if he uses the full force of all his followers. This will allow us time to escape. To get us through the fire to Hogwarts and to block off the connection again.” He reasoned. Snape crossed his arms as he considered.

“And do you plan on keeping the boy in the house for the entire summer? He can still be tracked outside of the wards.”

“There are ways to go unseen.”

“The Dark Lord is a skilled tracker. I know no protection charm that stopped him before.”

“Do you remember that I used to be an Unspeakable?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know that there are many things that can protect you from being tracked. The spell I know lasts for only a day. As long as I cast it before he leaves the house there will be no problem from tracking magic.”

“There are other ways to track.”

“Fucking hell Severus! Yes, there are. But I would think that it would be damn near impossible. If nothing else, this helps with that aspect. Before it would be easy to find the place that he was but hard to get into the wards. There is no chance of him being found here. The Dark Lord is not going to think of this place. He is in a muggle neighborhood, in a house owned by a half-blood finance lawyer that he should not know other than the fact that he is married to a professor that he hates by all accounts. The professor who no one actually knows is married! If the man is able to make those giant leaps and end up our doorstep then there was no way to protect him regardless of anything a person could do!” Now he was waving his hands as he gesticulated along with his reasoning.

Severus was just giving him a blank look. To be honest he wasn’t even trying anymore. Alex was a smart man. He would not have even done this if he did not think he would win the argument. Sometimes he bemoaned his awful luck to be married to a Slytherin and a lawyer. It was not the most conducive to winning arguments. That wasn’t to say he never won, more often than not debates to which there was no obvious transgressor ended as a draw. Sometimes though, Alex had the capacity to “out think” himself. For now he was just arguing because he knew he was supposed to.

“Fine.” He finally acquiesced. “I hope you know what you are getting into. This isn’t a puppy that you can take care of. He is an emotionally compromised teenager who is about to go through puberty. He has experience a myriad of tragedy and abuse.  You won’t just be able to ignore that.”

“Which I am sure you will be helping out regardless. Him being here is infinitely better for all of us, irrespective of any problems may occur.” Alex shrugged. He smiled lightly when his husband agreed. There was no doubt in his mind that he would. Severus had not wanted the boy to go back to his home. He also knew that Severus was reluctant to bring him to this home. While there was the element of surprise in terms of him being here, it also put him closer to the path of the Dark Lord. Severus had already returned to his false master’s side, bowing his head. While the Dark Lord assumed that Severus still lived in Spinners End such close contact with the enemy could put Harry in danger.

Still Alex was not worried. He was not lying about the strength of the wards. Granted, some of the darker ones were placed by him and not the professional Warder. Not that Severus had to know that. They would hold long enough for them to escape. In the end, they would all be happier with the boy here.

“Well I need to finish my potion. I suppose you can handle the tour?” Severus asked. Alex nodded in agreement. He really was working on a potion, so it wasn’t like he was trying to avoid the boy. Particularly the potion he was working on was liable to explode if left on heat for too long.

Alex turned back towards the living room where Harry sat. The poor boy looked so nervous, his eyes trained firmly on his lap as shaking fingers pet his snake. With a little sigh he dropped the silencing charm.

“Well then Harry, shall I show you to your room?” The boy looked up with a bright smile.

“I can stay?” He beamed.

“Of course. There was no way Severus was going to kick you out. Really, that was just for show. Better to ask forgiveness that permission I always say, and he does agree with the sentiment. Still, there are rules to these kinds of things. Well, follow me.”

Harry tucked Labyrinth back into his hoodie and stood. Alex led him up a pair of stairs onto the second floor. Harry finally began to actually take the time to look at the house. Normally a house in the suburbs would feel cozy, with kitschy knickknack, doilies and a myriad of family photos. Or maybe sterile like at the Dursleys. Instead this house seemed to be along the industrial theme. The hallways were wide and the rooms large, larger than the house should be, so Harry assumed there was some sort of charm. The floors were a dark wood that matched the wood and leather furniture. The walls were exposed brick, making the area feel chic but also radiated a pleasant warmth.

“Welcome to the second floor. Above us is the attic so there is really no need to go up there to see. The first door to your left is our room.” Alex didn’t make a move to open that door though Harry wasn’t surprised by that. Instead he followed him down the hall until they arrived at the last door.

“This will be your room.” The room was larger than any room in the Dursleys house. The floor was the same dark wood, though the walls were a sharp white instead of brick. There was a large bed pushed against the back wall. The frame was a black wrought iron, simple and strong. The bed itself was adorned with a dark grey comforter, a stack of light grey pillows and a blood red blanket was folded at the foot of the bed. A black book shelf took up the majority of the wall to his left and like every bookshelf he had seen on Snapes’ property it was brimming with books. A large dresser sat on the right wall, it was painted black as well. A door to the closet set close by. Finally Harry could see a large carpet, the color of garnet, spread out on the floor covering most of the room but not all of it.

Alex led him into the room and let him marvel as he pulled out Harrys trunk from his pocket and unshrunk it.

“Right, so over there is the attached bathroom,” He pointed to the door in question. Then he strode over to the closet door. “This is your walk in closet.” He leaned in and started to pull something out. “This is for Hedwig.”

He pulled out a tall piece of wrought iron. It stood five feet tall, splitting near to top to form a ‘y’ with one side sitting straight and parallel to the floor and the other curled into a spiral. The man motioned for her cage. With practiced ease he slipped the cages carrying handle into the spiral so that it could hang. Then the cage door was opened and Hedwig flew out, landing on the straight part, hooting happily before settling down for a nap.

“Now, would you like to continue the tour?” Harry agreed and they went on their way.

“The next room over is an additional bedroom.” The door swung open to reveal a nearly identical room, but instead of red being the accent color it was a dark blue. They then trudged down to the ground floor.

“You have already seen the living room.” The living room did not have any real walls that defined it from any of the other rooms on the floor. But along the few walls that were there bookshelves were lined and filled.  All the furniture, a long couch and two armchairs, were a black leather and they faced a rather large telly. There was another carpet in this room which was emerald green. There was a fireplace off to the side. A coffee table and the matching side tables were made of a dark stained wood and were strategically placed in the room so that they could be used but not take up too much of the open space.

“And the kitchen. God that smells great.” Harry followed him through the living room into what looked like a dining room. The large table sat bare of everything except a center piece of two candles and a bowl of brightly shined metal orbs. Peering past the table you were able to see directly into the kitchen which was only separated by a small half wall that jutted part way into the room. The kitchen had the same dark wood and exposed brick, with the many cabinets matching the color of the floor. There was a large fridge, two ovens stacked on each other, a large six burner stove and a dishwasher. They were all top of the line and a slate grey. There was a large island in the middle of the kitchen that was topped with the same black marble that was around the rest of the room.

Standing at the island was professor Snape. He glanced up from his steady chopping before giving a small smirk. With a vicious precision he diced a handful of green onions.

“Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, will you set the table?” He asked, turning back to the food that was simmering on the stove.

“Severus makes dinner.” Alex explained as he began handing Harry bowls and cutlery. “Really he is a fantastic chef. Can’t bake to save his life.” Harry nodded along, a little surprised.

“You don’t have a house elf?” He asked. He didn’t know why he assumed that they would have one. Maybe it was the comfortability with them at Hogwarts. Also, it was always well known that a sign of wealth was having a house elf and they were far from poor.

“We hire from a service once a week for some housekeeping. But no, we don’t have one ourselves. This house is not very large, so there is no need for constant cleaning. We both enjoy cooking as well. We never really saw the need.” He flicked his wand and a row of glasses floated from their cabinet onto the table, three water glasses settling at each spot and two wine glasses setting at the head of the table and the seat to its right.

“You can hire house elves?” Harry asked.

“Oh yes, there are companies that allow it. Some house elves form ‘guilds’ where a person can send in job requests and they will see it done. Some things like one time cleaning, party setups and emergency babysitting. Also long term things like the weekly cleaning that we hire them for and full time nannying positions.”

“I didn’t know that existed.”

“Well it is rare. People would rather own one than hire one. In some regards it costs less and there are less rules to follow on how you treat them. Though that will change soon, thanks to your little friend.”

“You mean Hermione?”

“Yes. Her bill has passed the first legislative steps and is heading for the Wizengamont vote next week. Most analysts agree that it will probably pass. There will be some debating before the vote but I happen to know the woman who is representing it and she is quite the fierce debater.”

“Hermione really admires her.” Harry smiled.

“As she should. The woman is actually the daughter of a squib. Despite being related to the Malfoy family she has had to start at the bottom and has clawed her way up to the top. She is a great role model to have.”

“Who are you discussing?” Snape entered, a large pot floating behind him. With a swish of his wand the pot landed on the table, a small piece of marble slipping under it before it landed on the table.

“Samantha Dorrington.”

Harry sat with his meal letting the normalcy wash over him with a comforting weight. Snape turned out to be a fantastic cook, though that really didn’t surprise him. The dinner was a pasta and chicken dish in a white sauce. Just enough cheese to enhance the flavor, but not enough to overwhelm. A small amount of nutmeg accented the cream, leaving behind a sweet but luxurious flavor.

“So at the office Kutkowski has started this thing with the meeting schedule-“Alex started, chattering away about what was happening at his office. He gossiped and griped for a while before randomly switching topics to ask Severus about his current potion.

Harry was in awe at the easy way that they talked. Snape was explaining some of the technical issues he was dealing with for his current potion. Harry was used to Aunt Petunia’s response to the explanations of her husbands work, which was a glazed over look and the occasionally saying “oh really” at the pauses. Alex wasn’t like that. He leaned into the conversation, nodding along with each long winded technical explanation and asking intelligent questions.

“Would the acidity of the Dragon Breath fruit be able to counter act the basic effects of the mushrooms? Because if the potion is too basic you wouldn’t get the full effect of the unicorn blood.” The fact that he seemed to know so much about his husbands’ profession spoke volumes. Silently Harry hoped that he would eventually find someone that cared enough about him that way.

He smiled when he noticed a stray fork sneaking its way silently towards Snapes plate. Alex kept a straight face, still arguing about the need to get an extra pint of milk, as he tried to cross over the border of the plate.

Like a viper a second fork struck the intruder before it could spear a piece of chicken. A quick glance at Snape showed that he hadn’t changed his expression, seemingly ignorant that his own fork had to defend his plate. The slightly ringing of struck metal filled the air and seemed to accent the awkward silence. Again the fork tried to pinch some food and it was knocked back with the same amazing accuracy. Harry watched this happen three more times before Snape finally broke.

“You have your own plate! And the pot is not more than a foot away. Stop stealing off my plate!” Alex put on an innocent expression.

“But it tastes better from your plate.” Alex whined

“No it doesn’t!” His tone came out complete exasperated. “You do this all the time. I make more than enough food, eat your own.” He banged his fist on the table, only in mock anger but it was just enough time for Alex to launch his fork at the now open plate. Snape glared heavily and Alex looked back, cheeks stuffed with the large forkful of food that he liberated from Snapes place. Harry snorted and tried to hide his creeping smile behind his hand. He couldn’t contain his laugh as Alex struggled to swallow, coughing when he finally managed to get it down. Alex smiled guilelessly and returned to his food as if that hadn’t happened.

Snape mumbled a few insults before turning back to the food. The dinner continued with the same casual humorous tone. Harry couldn’t remember the last time that he sat at a proper table and laughed as hard as he had. Perhaps when he was last at the Weasley’s. Still, by the time that dinner ended and pudding was finished his sides hurt from laughing.

“Right, well then.” Alex finally sighed, flicking his wand so that the dishes floated over to the dishwasher. Unlike the Weasleys, who had a charmed scrub brush, they used a muggle washer. “I think that I need to go to bed. I don’t know about you, but I am tired.”

“If you actually went to sleep at night instead of staying up watching B Horror movies you might feel rested.”

“Hey! I don’t say anything when you stay up late reading potions journals.” He griped back. They continued to bicker back and forth as they cleaned up, the three of them migrating upstairs.

“Sleep well Harry.” Alex waved, Snape grunting a goodbye as well. Harry returned the fare well before stepping into his room.

His room. God that sounded great. He glanced around at his space, the bed, the bookshelves, and the bathroom. This was his space and no one else’s. With a little squeal of glee he jumped onto his bed.

Best day ever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many heartfelt apologies! I know it has been nearly two months since I last posted to Outrage. Well, posted anything to be honest. I got a bit stuck and needed to “cleanse my palate”. So I took some time off to gather my thoughts and destress. I know that’s not fair to you and I will try to make it up to you.  
> T  
> hat being said, this chapter probably won’t be enough to make it up to you since it is another set up/ filler chapter. I promise that I will try desperately to get some plot in there but I’m struggling to decide where I want to go over the summer portion of this story. Hopefully I will be posting more regularly now.
> 
> Thank you for everyone who reviewed. You are all lovely.

It was the smell of bacon that woke Harry. Though the deliciously greasy smell had a tough battle against the forces of sleep. The bed he was on felt like a cloud and the comforter left him cocooned in a warmth that kept him like shackles. Eventually the rumbling of his stomach and the achingly brilliant smells from down stairs prompted him out of bed.

“Good morning Hedwig.” He acknowledged the bird. The owl lifted her head from beneath her wing to give a baleful hoot before returning to bed. With a happy hum Harry tossed on some of his casual clothes, consisting of a pair of jeans Dudley had long out grown and a t-shirt for the Irish quidditch team he had bought last year at the world cup. It was one of the only shirts that he owned that weren’t his uniform and actually fit him within two sizes.

As he walked down the stairs he dragged his fingers along the walls, convinced if he was not touching it that it would all disappear. He was at Professor Snapes home, no longer needing to return to the Dursleys. No longer sleeping under the stairs, which was where he was sure he would be considering how he left their home last summer. There was no way that Vernon had forgotten having his fire place destroyed and Dudleys tongue growing a couple of feet. It was the first time he had woken up outside of school without the heavy feeling of dread pooling at this bottom of his stomach. Without yelling and screeching, without the looming threat of a fist, cane, or frying pan.

“Good morning Harry.” A happy chirp came from the kitchen. Alex was standing at the stove, frying pan in hand. He was wearing a pair of simple black trousers and a pale blue t-shirt, all under a denim apron hung around his neck. On the table there was a plate of fruit chopped up and a set of granite hot plates.

“Do you need any help?” Harry asked, edging closer to the stove. “I used to cook breakfast all the time.”

“It’s quite alright Harry, I am almost done anyway. Though if you are looking to do something you could set the table. Dishes are over there.” He used his spatula to point out the cabinet. Harry selected the plates moving to set the table as requested.

“How did you sleep?” Alex inquired, scooping eggs out of the pan and into a serving bowl.

“It was brilliant!” Harry smiled.

“Good good.” Alex hummed, unwrapping his apron and tossing it onto the counter. He picked up the bowl and plunked it onto the table. A plate of bacon followed behind, a little floating duckling behind the lawyer. He plucked it out of the air and dropped it onto one of the hot plates. “Now sit and I’ll get Severus out of bed.” With a wicked little smirk he lift his wand. With a sharp flick he pointed it towards the ceiling. A deep muffled cry was followed by a floor shaking thump. Alex slid into the seat to the right of the head. He was placing his napkin on his lap when Snape came gliding down the stairs.

It was weird looking at his potions professor in his casual clothes. Harry had really only seen him in his teaching robes and his formal clothing. Even when he was working in his personal lab he always had on his white shirt and a pair of slacks. But coming down this morning he was wearing a pair of dark blue flannel pajamas and a white t-shirt.

The first thing Harry noticed is that Snape was more fit than he thought he would be. His sallow face and general air of greasiness always gave the impression that under his layers he would be thin skin over sharp bones. He wasn’t big muscles or anything, nothing of that sort. But he had some corded muscle on his arms and forearms. His shoulders seemed wider and they tapered down into a pair of hips. He would never have fit on a billboard or a magazine but he certainly looked healthier than Harry gave him credit. He dropped his eyes to his plate, which was being filled with food from self-moving utensils, when he noticed that those black eyes were glaring.

Snape strode up to the table with the surety of a leopard stalking its kill. With a swift and fluid motion he bent down to speak directly into Alex’s ear.

“You will live to regret that.” He growled.

“I’m sure of it.” Alex replied, turning to peck him on the cheek. “But in the meantime let’s have breakfast.” There was a moment of silence as the three men fell onto the meal, eager to fill their stomachs. Harry was happy to find that Alex was a skilled cook and went to work enjoying his food.

“Do you have plans for today?” Snape finally asked, glancing at his husband.

“Shopping. Mostly for essentials. I was planning on taking Harry with me, if you want to join?” He directed the question at Harry. He had to struggle to swallow the large bite of eggs and toast he had just chipmunked into his mouth. With eyes watering he finally got it down.

“Sure. I’ll come.” Harry agreed readily. Alex gave him a bright smile.

“And you Sev?”

“There are some things I was unable to finish before I left. A new therapist offered their services and I wish to meet him.” The potions professor dabbed his mouth with his napkin. He piled his utensils onto his plate and with a flick of his wand they were making their way over to the sink.

“Well then it will be just me and Harry today. All done Harry?” Alex asked. At his nod Harry’s breakfast plates were in the air, settling into the sink that was now filling with soapy water.” Then we shall get dressed and ready to go. There is a shopping center a short walk from here so wear comfortable shoes.”

“Wait.” Snape stopped them. In between his fingers two familiar potions bottles were held. Harry grimaced but received them anyway. He was hoping that he wouldn’t have to take these potions anymore. He was feeling much healthier, and looking it based on everyone’s comments. Even Madam Pomphrey had made a few choice statements about his excellent growth when he was in the hospital wing after the tournament. When she asked he just shrugged, not quite sure what Snape had or had not told the woman. Still, he knew better than to argue with Snape about his health and would keep shoving potions down his throat until he was allowed not to. With a slight gag be placed the vials back into the spindly fingers before running upstairs to grab his shoes. He wasn’t going to wait around and see what else Snape might make him imbibe.

O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O

Harry stood nervously at the front door, not that he should be. This was hardly his first foray into the muggle world. But it would be the first time that he was wandering around alone with Alex. Speak of the devil, the man in question came bounding down the stairs, tucking a leather wallet into his back pocket and shouting the end of a conversation back to his husband.

“- and if you want it clean, do it yourself. You can even wear that damn maid costume.” He turned back to Harry with a soft smile. “Well let’s be on our way. But first this is very important.” The smile slipped from his face, not even a ghost of the jovial expression appearing in the stony expression. “No one knows you’re here. It is best that we keep it that way. Unfortunately as soon as the Dark Lord realizes that you no longer reside with the Durselys then you will have a myriad of tracking spells on their way. In this house you are safe. Once you step out onto the sidewalk you can be found. I don’t think I have to warn you of what would happen if you were found.” His voice was serious and sharp, reminiscent of the day they were in court.

“This spell that I have will prevent any tracking. However, it only last twenty four hours. I am the only one who can do the spell. You MUST get this spell before leaving. It may be the only thing that keeps you alive.”

“Yes sir.” Harry replied softly, taking the serious warning for what it was. There was no joke in his voice, not even a flicker of jest in his tone. Alex nodded and took a step back. He lifted his wand and began to twirl it in a complicated pattern. The tip glowed yellow as a design of light was traced into the air resulting in an interwoven Celtic knot. As he drew he hummed an incantation. It wasn’t in Latin, though that was as far as Harry could comment. With a steady hand lines wove and danced into place, shimmering with power. It was impossible complicated and he marveled as the wand never hesitate, never wavered in its precision. Eventually the drawing was complete and it rose to rest horizontally over his head. It sunk, enveloping him head to toe before disappearing without a sound.

“Right then.” Alex finished with a happy sigh as if he hadn’t done some of the most beautiful and complicated magic Harry had ever seen. “Off we pop.”

Dressed up in his school trousers and a t-shirt with the least amount of holes he could find Harry joined Alex outside. Alex was wearing a pair of black jeans and a button down tartan shirt. It was the beginning of summer to the sun was warm but the wind blew sporadically and it had the bite of chill.

“Mr. Dawsen! Yoohoo!” A voice called out as they walked past a house. An older lady came bounding out of her house. She was dressed in a long dress made out of a fabric that would’ve been more appropriate on a couch from the fifties. Her grey hair was pulled up into a bun and held by a butterfly clip. She had a bright smile on her face as she wiped her hands on an apron. A smear of flour adorned her cheek from where she had wiped a stray hair out of her face.

“Mrs. McArthur! How wonderful to see you this morning.” Mr. Dawsen replied in a flirty tone, moving to stand right outside of her gate as she approached. Harry followed, marveling at the wholesome warmth that seemed to seep from her being.

“Please, I told you to call me Sherry, didn’t I?”

“Of course, many apologies.”

“And who is this handsome young man?” She turned to Harry. He took a step forward when a heavy palm on his back pushed him up.

“This is Harry. He is the son of Severus’s cousin. He is staying with us for the summer as his parents do work in America.” Alex explained happily, dropping an almost invisible wink to the Gryffindor. Harry offered his hand but was quickly pulled into a hug, his belly forced into the top bar of the gate as he was engulfed.

“Lovely to meet you my dear!” She gushed. “Now how old are you?”

“Fourteen. I’ll be turning fifteen this summer.”

“How wonderful! You are close in age to my son Daniel. He turns sixteen in August. I’m sure you two would be wonderful friends.” She chattered. Harry tried not to blush when she lightly patted his cheek. “You must come in and visit sometime soon. You and Severus too. It has been such a long time since we have sat down and had tea. You must promise me that you will.” She beamed at Alex.

“Of course, as long as you promise to make your famous pie.”

“As if I would do anything else.”

“Then I’m sure that I will be able to lure Severus out of his dungeon.” Harry snorted, the image of Snape snuffling his way out of the Hogwarts dungeon in search of pie popping into his mind without his permission. He could see Alex standing behind a corner, rope in hand to spring the giant box he had enlarged as a trap.

“I’m afraid that we must be going Mrs. McArthur, Sherry,” He corrected after a playful smack was aimed at him. “We have some shopping to do and I would like to beat the midday rush if I can.”

“Of course dear. Have fun! And you better keep your promise, I want to see you at my table within the week!” She waved them off before toddling back to her house.

“Lovely lady.” Alex sighed. “She has been living next to us for years. She had three children, two of them are out of the house now. Probably why she keeps trying to get me and Sev at her table. Always baking.”

“She seems nice. A bit . . . forceful.”

“Yes quite. Reminds me of my grandmother. Though she doesn’t have the tendency to get drunk on port and racist like my granny.” Alex chirped back.

“You seem very comfortable with the muggle world.” Harry commented after a minute.

“As I should be, since I am a Half-blood. Well if you want to be technical I would be a quarter blood. My father was a Half-blood and my mother was a muggle. I spent a good portion of my time living in the muggle world.”

“You are a Half-blood?” Harry repeated in surprise. Partially because the man was so comfortable in the wizarding world in a way Harry could never hope to be, partially because that would mean another non- PureBlood in the Slytherin house.

“Oh yes. That’s one of the reason Severus and I chose to live in a muggle neighborhood. We both spent most of our childhoods outside of the wizarding world. We find it more comfortable here. The people are nicer too. Well they are nicer now, at least.”

“Now?” Harry inquired.

“Well, we have been together a long time ago, when tolerance wasn’t really permeated in society. We had our fair share of trouble throughout the years. But in the end those who could not handle us moved away or passed away, leaving us the victors. Though Mrs. McArthur was always a staunch friend.” Alex said it in a blasé way though the slightly wistful and mournful expression on his face was anything but. They fell into an unsteady silence, preferring to listen to the motion of life around them instead of continuing down the path of the uncomfortable conversation ahead.

“Here we are.” Mr. Dawsen came to a stop in front of a shop. Peering into the store Harry took note of all the clothes that lined the walls and stuffed the shelves.

“I thought you were running errands. Just the essentials.”

“Yes. The main errand, to get you some proper clothing.” Alex explained.

“But I don’t need any more clothes.” Harry protested. Alex dragged his eyes down Harry’s current outfit. It was Harry’s most presentable outfit but he also knew that it fell short of actually being suitable for public. The clothes had been washed to the point that they were thin and near see through. Colors had faded and hems were wrinkled and unraveling. At first glance it was okay but with a sharper eye one would only find a bed-raggled appearance. Still, he protested. “You don’t need to buy me anything.”

“Listen Harry,” Alex sighed in exasperation. “We are your guardians for this summer, yes? It is a guardian’s duty to make sure that their charges are properly clothed. I told you and your Aunt and Uncle that you would have everything provided for you. That includes this.”

“But I can pay for it. I have the money.”

“I am well aware of that. And you should be aware that Severus and I have even more.”

Harry wanted to protest even more. It made him distinctly uncomfortable when someone buys him something, even if the occurrence is very rare. He didn’t really know why he felt like that but whenever someone offered he could feel his stomach jolt, as if it was trying to turn 180 degrees and hide behind his spine. Regardless he went through the door when Alex opened it for him. It was useless to argue. Just like with the potions, therapy and other things, he was never going to win this argument.

When they emerged from the store Harry had more clothes than he had ever owned from the time he was an infant. He had originally thought that they were going to get something along the lines of a few shirts and two pairs of pants. Instead Alex seemed determined to buy everything in the store. Harry had t-shirts, nicer than any he currently had, some in plain colors, some with patters and pictures. He was also loaded down with a half dozen polo shirts, even more button downs, three new sweaters and four vests. He had no idea why he would ever wear a vest but Alex declared them stylish and a necessity in every young man’s closet so he shrugged and let the man dress him up. They moved onto trousers after Alex had declared their selection ‘good enough for now’. He had a stack of jeans ranging in colors and fits. He had two pairs of khaki pants, five pairs of professional looking black trousers and a pair of red trousers “just for fun”. Alex sneered at the offered corduroy. With a disdainful sniff he declared that there was no one that he was willing to be seen with in cords, not even his own husband.

Harry had been happy when they were done, incorrectly thinking that they were done. Before he had the chance to fully turn to the registers he was being pulled along to another section of the store. Soon to join their haul was a handful of ties, mostly in solid colors but a few ridiculously patterned ones. A trillby, a newsboy hat, and a beanie soon joined the pile. He was forced to pick up two pairs of trainers and a pair of oxfords. Finally Alex put in a value pack of sock and declared them done.

“Put these on.” Alex commanded as they stood at the register. He had asked the lady to scan in a pair of dark jeans, a white t-shirt and a maroon vest first. He then handed Harry the stack and gave the order. He was forced to go back in to the dressing room to get changed while the rest of the purchases were rung up. He scrambled into his new outfit but by the time he was back out Alex had already paid and the receipt was tucked away where Harry couldn’t see the damage that was done.

“That’s much better.” The lawyer gave his approval as he looked Harry over. Harry tried not to blush at the praise. He actually was quite happy with the effect of the new clothes. With his health improving he couldn’t help but notice his body growing out. He was taller but instead of being gangly like Ron was the potions were helping putting a set of muscle on his body. He had lost the spindly, hollow look in his body. Even his knees looked less knobby now that he actually had some flesh on his bones. Dressed up like this he felt like Draco when the boy dressed down, with the causal professionalism that gave an air of nobility and rebellion. He may not particularly enjoy those type of snooty rich kids but he was not immune to the general jealousy that came when you see those type of people.

“Let’s finish the errands now.” The other errands they had to run was what Harry thought they would be doing when he left the house this morning. They dropped a letter into a post box, stopped at the grocery store to grab a few things and made their way home. He was still a little annoyed at being given so much but every time he looked down at the shopping bags filled with to the brim with things for him a smile crept onto his face despite his annoyance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I would apologize for my late posting but since I do so almost every chapter and is quickly losing its potency as a proper apology. Honestly, every week I promise myself that I am going to continue this story at a constant rate. Then I wake up a week later with nothing but dust. I could blame my busy life . . . but meh. Thank you for sticking with me regardless. 
> 
> I promise next chapter we will start the plot. Swear down. Until then, enjoy. I put in another (two) book recommendations (another? Yes another. What do expect from a writer who owns over a 150 books?). I do quote one of the books, I don’t own it and all that stuff I’m supposed to say but never do.   
> Until next time.

Alex opened the liquor cabinet with his usual flourish. His fingers tapped a dance against the cooler glass. They traced the labels as he tried to discern what the taste that rested on his tongue was and which bottle would match it. With a small snap he grabbed a bottle of amber liquid and pulled it from its space on the shelf.

“I wouldn’t.” Severus said, entering the room with a cup of tea to go sit in the couch. It had turned dark hours ago and the tall man was illuminated by the only light in the room, giving him an eerie yet regal look. They were alone, Harry sent off to bed at ten with only a token complaint.                                  

“And why not?” Alex asked, bottle frozen between his chest and the cabinet. He glanced at the man, who was ignoring him to search for the remote to the television. Their television had been one of the hardest things to put in the house.

Magic had a difficult time with anything that ran on electricity. Electricity always took the path of least resistance. Magic, in its most basic form, is pure energy which creates an easy path for electricity to follow. After the magic hit its intended target it would disperse, leaving an infinite amount of infinitesimal trails for the electrons to follow that weren’t inside whatever electrical device it was supposed to be in.  Whenever you turned on an electrical device in an area full of magic it would just fizz out, instantly losing its energy to the immeasurable amount of magical pockets. Sturdy, well insulated pieces of tech could withstand it a little, trapping the electricity within itself to a certain degree, but never long and not in areas with magic flying around. However, Alex didn’t move to a muggle neighborhood to not have any muggle technology.

 In the end Severus had created a potion that created a barrier for magic to be painted on whatever they were trying to protect, keeping the telly as insulated as possible. It was an older model so not as finicky and high tech as the newer models, which is why the magic barrier actually prevented it from burning out. And even then, they had to be sure not to use magic within two meters of the machine or it would short out for a day.

“Because we now have an emotionally unstable abuse victim who’s abusers, at least one or two, were alcoholics. So for the time being, drinking is not advised.” Snape purred, saluting him with his cup as he groaned. With a slump he placed the bottle back.

“Surely it would be okay here? I am hardly his uncle.” Alex reasoned. He dropped down onto the couch and slung his thighs across Sev’s lap, barely missing the teacup with his whirlwind limbs.

“Perhaps he would be able to reason it. However, subconsciously? The mind is a powerful thing and something as simple as smell can bring uneasiness. He may trust us, to an extent, but I am no fool. He had trusted before and been hurt by that. No matter how hard he tries he will be judging us, and watching us. He will not be able to trust us completely and as a result anything that may indicate similar problems to his last home, no matter how small or incongruous that it may seem to us, will no doubt become a large problem to him.”

“Okay fine, no drinking then.” Alex sighed, sinking down into the cushions and flexing his toes.

“It would hardly kill you to stop drinking. Perhaps it would be beneficial to you.” Severus swatted as his foot as it was dug into his side.

“That’s something you have no right to say. Your soap box is poorly made at best.” Alex griped. “Well, anything else I need to be warned about?”

“You are going to have to be careful about him helping out.” Severus warned, lifting the remote to change the channel.

“What do you mean?” The telly flickered as it flashed through cooking shows, panel shows and the periodic news channel.

“In his last home he was frequently ordered to work as payment for the ability to live there and be given the basic necessities for life. In school he is told that he has to perform scholastically to stay. As such there is a chance that he will feel the need to ‘pay back’ whatever is given to him. Especially after your large shopping trip. This, of course, is a way of thinking that we do not want to foster. He will be given chores, but strictly controlled and heavily explained why he had been given them and that he will still be given all the necessities to survive regardless.

“There is a good chance that he will either offer incessantly or even try to do the work himself. Occasionally accepting his offer is fine but everything else should be watched with a careful eye.”

“You have thought this through.” Alex hummed. He chuckled at the glare that was shot at him. “Is that it?”

“For now. I’m sure there will be more that comes up. This is not a normal house guest like your aunt. You can’t just feed him, ply him with alcohol and hope that he goes to bed before he starts a family fight. The boy will need a sharp eye and a steady hand. Structure will need to be set and prevention methods put in place to prevent trouble.”

“Well that’s why I have you to guide me.”  Alex purred. “What would I do without you?”

“No doubt you would end up destroying half the block and ruin the lives of hundreds of the next generation.” He stood up suddenly, forcing Alex to do a barrel roll as he fell off the couch and onto the floor. He stepped over the groaning lawyer, his normal flourish missing without his robe.

“I hate you!” Alex yelled as Severus started to climb the stairs.

“I am very well aware.” A deep voice rumbled back.

O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O

Life in the Snape-Dawsen household was easy to fall into. The next day after the shopping trip Alex returned to work, leaving a few minutes before eight through the emerald fire as he was going to every week day from now on. The rest of the day fell into a vague schedule that Snape had laid out.

Harry woke every morning just as breakfast is finished cooking. He had tried to wake up early enough to do some of the cooking himself and found himself quite unsuccessful. It was as if Alex had read his mind because when Harry had managed to sneak down the stairs the man was already in the kitchen, cooking with a wicked, knowing smile. They would eat together, normally after Snape been dragged out of bed.

“I swear that man could sleep through a bloody coup.” Alex would grumble with a fond smile. “It’s like he never sleeps during the year and just decided to hibernate in the summer.” Harry pondered how many near misses he had when Snape was patrolling the halls after hours. Silently he thought that was probably exactly what he did.

After breakfast Harry did his chores. Though they were hardly chores by his metric. He was responsible for keeping his own room clean, after being informed that ‘you are now at the age where you will be getting things of worth and you need to learn to care for them properly.’. Though it was hardly more than picking up the few items of clothing, hanging up laundry and tossing dirty clothes into a basket. He was also responsible for loading the dishwasher after breakfast, but not for dinner or lunch. After he did that he had to do his schoolwork, a minimum of an hour. Typically he would sit at the dining room table and work on the essays given to him due on the first day of classes. Snape was normally there as well, shuffling through a large stack of manila files which he told Harry had personal information of his students which ‘are heavily charmed to make snoops understand clearly not to be too nosy’ which he said with a knowing look. Harry had blushed a little ashamed because there had been the large swelling of curiosity that normally got him in trouble.

After school work Snape went to his personal lab and worked. Harry got to work with him, something he actually enjoyed doing. Snape’s personal lab was amazing. The floor was a dark hardwood and the walls painted a rich red. Books covered the three bookshelves, bookshelves seemed to be the major theme of the house, and on the shelves were knick-knacks that fascinated Harry. There was a gold dagger with rubies laid into the handle, the handle shaped like a roaring dragon (“Not to be touched unless you plan on cutting banshee heart Potter. Should be a simple enough rule to follow, even for you”). There was a large jar filled with sand, when it was turned you could see the rainbow shimmer of an opal scorpion as it scrambled to stay complete covered. There was a golden clockwork bird that sat on Snapes desk. It would stay completely still except when one of the ingredients was beginning to rot it would flutter over to the jar and twitter until it was dealt with. There was a vase with stems that bloomed into flowers the closer you got, withering as you stepped away.

Harry’s favorite was a small silver ball that rested on a pillow. It glimmered prettily as you picked it up, not more than two inches across. If you held it for more than thirty seconds it melted into a puddle. It would flow down your hand and arm, warping and wrapping around your limbs, flowing like water but never falling off the skin onto the floor. Despite the liquid form the actual liquid was as cold as ice, raising goose flesh as it trailed across the skin. To form it back into a ball you had to collect the mercurial liquid into your palms and then drop it, moving your hands away as quickly. By the time it hit the floor it was a solid metal ball again.

There were cauldrons that lined the walls of a dozen different sizes and material types. Some so large that Harry could bathe in one, or get cooked he would think imagining himself being boiled with carrots and onions in a humorously morbid daydream. The desk in the corner was much like Snapes’ desk at school, covered in more paper and parchment than seeming possible. Though Harry noted the presence of muggle pens, highlighters and notepads. There were two preparation tables and on the far wall was the ingredients. Most of the dry ingredients that didn’t need any type of preservation were in a large chest of drawers that went from the floor to ceiling, each little drawer labeled with familiar spiky handwriting and all bigger on the inside than on the outside. The wet and all other ingredients were stored in jars on the shelves that stood by the chest. Snape had been quite serious about warning him away from browsing unsupervised. Many of the ingredients were not available in the school stocks for very good reasons (Read; students should never, ever, be trusted to not be stupid).

Harry would help out in the lab almost every day. For the most part he would prepare the ingredients, something he really didn’t mind doing. Sometimes Snape would wander by and critique he skills, showing him the proper way to do a certain cut or grinding method. Snape was making a new potion he would narrate what he was doing and why it was important.

“The important part is to grind the beetles and then use asp venom to make a paste. The fool who wrote you’re textbook, and just about every other potions master, would tell you to cut the beetles and drop in the venom. But if you want to introduce a solid into a liquid such as this without clumping it is really asinine to just drop everything in as chunks.” Maybe not narrate so much as berate his fellow potions masters and bemoan the state of the science. Though it commonly included an explanation and Harry enjoyed the little lectures.

Harry had always enjoyed learning. As a child he was like a sponge, eager to soak up everything he came into contact with. Though years of school and other . . . pressing issues had dampened his love for school but never his love for learning. So in class he would commonly drift off, forget to take notes, or goof off. This was dynamic and intriguing. Perhaps the lesson plan wasn’t as linear or as technical as in a traditional class. Still he felt that he was learning so much and he couldn’t ignore the warmth and pride when he learned something new and was able to apply it and prove that he was understanding the theory instead of just memorizing it like a parrot.

Lab work would be interrupted for lunch. Normally lunch was nothing more than leftovers from the night before, though an occasional sandwich would take its turn. They would work in the lab until Alex returned home or until there was something that was more pressing.

Dinner was always cooked by Snape and they always ate it together. Because of that dinner was never a set time. It was whenever Alex got home and was able to strip himself out of his dress robes and into his casual clothes. After they ate they would drift into the living room to do whatever. Sometimes they would watch TV. Watch panel shows and laugh loudly, though Harry wasn’t quite up to date with modern politics so he felt like there was a lot that he was missing. Sometimes they watched documentaries, sometimes Doctor Who, and sometimes the news (though Harry wasn’t a big fan of that).

Some nights they read. Harry found a large selection of muggle and wizarding books alike. When Harry commented that Draco enjoyed muggle literature Alex snorted.

“Who do you think introduced it to him? Certainly wasn’t going to be his mother and father.”

Alex was currently reading “The Illustrated Man”. It was taking him days to read it because he could have to put the book down every twenty minutes and moan dramatically about how horribly wonderful it was.

“What’s it about?” Harry asked, still at the shelf looking for something to read himself. It been the third time that night that the lawyer had groaned and bemoaned about the book.

“It’s a collection of short stories set in a framework of a man whose tattoos come alive and tell stories. A group of science fiction, fantasy existential crises and mind fucks. OW!” He yelped when a stinging hex hit him.

“Language.” Snape intoned, never looking up for his book which was some large textbook.

Alex had grumbled but returned to his story. Harry snorted in laughter and returned to the books with a hidden smile. The book he ended up pulling off the shelf was Catch-22. It was a weird book with seemingly no plot to speak of yet still seemed to flow along some sort of story line. Different stories are told in an out of sequence timeline. Characters are described in the most obscure non-traditional ways, yet paint a perfect picture of each person it was addressing. The book is an illogical mess that seems to make perfect sense. Considering its title, Harry would have been surprised if it had been any other way.

In particular Harry loved the character Yossarian. He would speak in circles, generally frustrating most of the people he talked to, and yet he was still generally liked by many others. Many times Harry would burst out laughing whenever the man spoke. The man, like the title, was a contradiction. He was likeable and enjoyable to read and at the same time a bit of a dick and difficult. Often he would get into circular conversation with others and argue with them for seemingly no reason, and yet he often did it with characters you weren’t fond of so it was fun regardless.

_“Who's they?" He wanted to know. "Who, specifically, do you think is trying to murder you?"_

_"Every one of them," Yossarian told him._

_"Every one of whom?"_

_"Every one of whom do you think?"_

_"I haven't any idea."_

_"Then how do you know they aren't?"_

_"Because..." Clevinger sputtered, and turned speechless with frustration._

_Clevinger really thought he was right, but Yossarian had proof, because strangers he didn't know shot at him with cannons every time he flew up into the air to drop bombs on them, and it wasn't funny at all.”_

It also helped that Harry could sympathize with the feeling that everyone was trying to kill you, even the people supposed to be on your side. All in all, Harry found it to be a wonderful yet frustrating book.

Bed time was ten thirty every night. Harry had initially protested this but was quickly shut down. Snape had told him, in no uncertain terms, that sleep was essential and heavily enforced. He went on a long tirade on how the health of the mind and body deteriorated with lack of sleep. How the body rebuilt itself and stored memories while asleep. He went down an exhaustive list of reasons until Harry agreed to bed time just to finish the lecture.

Contented he would slip into bed, comfortable and calm for the first time in his life. But as with everything in his life it wasn’t going to last.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. It has been a while. Unfortunately I have some skills as a writer but not all. Those skills do not include expressing certain types of emotion. Happiness, anger, humor. These things I do well. Fear, sadness, love are out of my purview. As such, this chapter (which encompasses some of those emotions) was a challenge for me. So it will probably not be good but it had to be done.   
> Many apologies.

The darkness was heavy and black, resting on his skin like syrup weighing him down. Cold air whipped around him, plucking and pricking at his skin like a thousand needles. Harry was panting as if he had been running but when he tried to bolt, as every harried nerve in his body begged him to do, his feet remained stuck. He swung his head wildly, searching in the darkness for friend and foe alike. But all he saw was more of the all-consuming blackness. The invisible wind howled like a wounded animal as if buffeted his body, the loud sound barely enough to cover the sound of his wildly pounding heart.

“Harry.” A mournful tone called out. Harry turned to see Cedric Diggory standing under a reddened light. He was standing and staring, not moving toward Harry. He was still wearing the clothes he had on the day that he died, his Hogwarts jersey and school trousers. His face caused shivers to run through Harry.

Even under the red light his skin looked as pale a snow, tinged blue where the cold fingers of death had touched his skin. The skin on his face was rotting away, swollen with decomposition in some places, sagging and stretched in others. He turned his cold eyes on Harry, the lack of life burned deep with a frozen fire.

“Cedric.” Harry tried to call but when he opened his mouth he could not make a sound. Spiders crawled over his neck and into his mouth. Hundreds of squirming legs prodded over his tongue and pressed against his throat as he was forced to swallow the foul bugs. He tried to close his mouth but it was held open with an invisible force and all he could do was cough and hack against the invading bugs.

“You did this to me.” The corpse accused. The voice was not angry, not emotional. Instead it accused without inflection. The accusation echoed through the darkness. Harry tried to answer back, beg the denial. Still his voice was silenced and the other boy kept talking. “I would not have died if it were not for you.”

“Please.” Harry tried to whimper for respite. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to struggle but remained firmly planted in place. The air was still heavy and hurt with every breath. Panic flooded his body, filling every inch of him.

“If you had been stronger . . . You know you had the potential. I could still be alive. He did not need me. He only wanted you. Yet I am dead and you live.” The older teen used the same hollow tone. It was not sad or angry, but dead like its owner.

“No, please Cedric! I didn’t-“ He tried to call out again but he could not figure out what to say. Was there anything he could say to prove his innocence? As he desperately tried he could think of nothing to easy his guilt.

The light flickered off and now it was only Harry standing alone in the dark. He tried to move again and was surprised when he could actually take a step. He could not see the ground but when he placed his foot down it echoed like a hard sole shoe on stone. He took a second step after a moment’s hesitation, and another quicker this time. He was running. He didn’t know where because there was nowhere to go. Once or twice he stumbled, his feet tripped up by unseen hands that snatched as his ankles. Still he ran. He ran until his lungs burned, his throat tasted of blood and every breath was nothing more than a pathetic shuttering gasp.

“POTTER!” A voice roared from all around him. A sudden rage bubbled up in Harry. This feeling frightened him because it was not all his. The burning fire of anger scorched him but there was a foreignness to the rage that made it not his own. It felt slimy as it whipped around his chest, leaving behind a chemical burn. He could feel it in him and around him. This unwelcome feeling of a foreign invader in his body that he could not release.

“KILL THE BOY!”

O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O

Harry woke with a choked off scream. He was back in Snape’s house, laying on his bed. Sweat soaked his body, chilling in the night air, his blankets having been long gone from tossing and turning. His heart thundered through his chest like a thousand hooves and seemed determined to remain at it breakneck speed.

He forced his body to take in a few shuddering breaths, coughing when his lungs couldn’t take the sudden volume of warm summers air. The sudden invading anger faded quickly, far quicker than the fear that only ebbed away slowly. His face burned with tears and his mouth was dry.

He sat up, scrubbing his hands forcefully through his hair, trying to rub away the last remnants of the nightmare. It had been a long time since a nightmare had affected him so thoroughly. Nightmares where nothing new, his first memories seemed to be him waking up in his cupboard after a green flash and a high pitched scream. Yet he had learned to live with it. To wake up quietly and quickly, mostly to avoid any punishment that would come from waking up the rest of the family. This nightmare was different. It was ephemeral and struck him deeply to his core. Even now that he was fully awake and minutes had passed he could still feel the tightness in his chest and the spider in his throat.

He swung his legs off the bed and stood, slipping his feet into the house slippers that Alex had given him. He began pacing the room, desperate to burn of the twitchy energy that came from adrenaline pumping through your veins. A light breeze from the window cooled his skin. He had the habit of keeping it open so Hedwig could come and go as she pleased. She was out right now, no doubt looking for something small to snack on. Labryinth was sleeping on his heating stone. Shortly after arriving at the Snape-Dawsen household Harry had gifted the snake a warming rock that muggles liked to use. The little snake had been overjoyed, no longer needing to ride along with Harry to get some warmth. The snake had been bored having to hide in a pocket while down in the lab and now spent ninety percent of its time languidly curled around the rock.

When his heart finally slowed down to a plausibly normal tempo Harry decided that he needed to get some water. As quietly as he could he slipped out of his door and made his way to the kitchen. He padded softly down the stairs with a practiced silence but was stopped as he passed the living room.

“Harry? What are you doing up?” Alex called out. He was lounging on one of the chairs in the living room, him and his book illuminated by a singular light. He looked confused as he noticed the boy. He had a tumbler full of scotch resting on the arm of his chair, his fingertips resting on the edge of the glass from where he had just put it down.

“I got thirsty.” Harry shrugged. He didn’t know why he lied. For some reason he felt embarrassed to be woken up from a nightmare.

“Of course.” Alex muttered distractedly. The man was trying to keep eye contact but his eyes kept slipping towards the fireplace. Sweeping and pausing in a continuous motion. The pit was empty and cold. Harry waited for him to say anything else.

“What about you?” Harry asked, pulling the mans attention back to himself.

“I’m waiting.” He mumbled. He lifted his glass to his lips again before pausing as if he had remembered something. With a quick motion he placed the glass on the table as far away as he could reach. The glass rattled with the rapid motion, sounding loudly throughout the silent room.

“What are you waiting for?” Harry questioned, taking a step forward. Alex just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was about to say something when the fireplace roared to life. The room was lit with green and a figure stumbled from the flames.

Snape staggered into the room, his arm clutched to his side. There was a soft clatter as a mask fell to the floor. Harry immediately recognized it as a Death Eaters mask. In a flash Alex was up and under the arm of his husband. He helped Snape fall onto the couch.

“Merlin Sev.” He scrambled to pull off the robes. He peeled back Snapes hand growled lightly at the sight of blood.

“Calm down Alex.” Snape grunted. He sat up a bit to help get the sleeves over his shoulder, revealing a white shirt that was saturated with blood just above his hip.

“Calm down?! You come falling into the living room covered with blood and you are telling me to calm down?” He yelled, summoning a towel to press it to the newly revealed weeping wound.

“This is nothing. Just a flesh wound and easily dealt with. Just go and get my first aid kit.” He turned to motion to the door that lead to his lab and caught sight of Harry. “Potter what are you doing up?”

“Um . . . getting a glass of water.” Harry stuttered out.

“You get my kit then.” He snapped. “Fuck, stop pressing so hard.” He growled at Alex. The lawyer just glared at him in response. Harry ran down to the basement and jogged to the shelf that held the first aid kit. It was mostly full of potions and a few bandages. Snape had been insistent that Harry know exactly where it is and what it contained before allowing him to work in the lab. He snatched it from its place and bolted back upstairs. In the living room the two men were arguing in low voices, heads close together and mouths pulled into sneers.

“Got it.” Harry huffed, speaking up when they both fell silent at the sound of his steps.

“Bring it here Harry.” Alex waved him over. Harry proceeded to follow the mans orders as he went through the complicated process of applying potions, casting spells and eventually wrapping the wound tightly with bandages. Snape groaned as his husband worked on him, since the man in question was treating him with a less than stellar bedside manner. He refused to look his husband in the eye and worked in a stolid silence except for when he was talking to Harry. Eventually they were finished and the potions repacked into their box.

Alex stood, grabbing his glass off the table and went to stand by the fireplace, his body turned away from Severus. Snape sighed and watching him with a vaguely annoyed look. Harry glanced between the two of them, wondering what the hell was going on.

“You are being childish.” Snape commented. Alex just threw him another glare and took a long drag from his glass. Snape rolled his eyes and turned back to Harry. “Perhaps it is time for you to return to bed. There are spare water glasses in your bathroom.”

“But-“ Harry protested, still confused. Snape just raised a hand to stop his complaint.

“Things will be explained to you later. However, it is late. I am tired and there is no immediate problem that needs to be dealt with.” Snape leveled him with a serious look. Harry glanced at Alex but the man wasn’t looking back at them. He hoisted himself up and made his way back to the stairs. He chanced one last look at the room before making his way up. When his feet landed on the upper level he heard the loud shattering of a glass. He wanted to go back downstairs but he knew there would be fighting. He had always held Mr. Dawsen and Professor Snape in a high regard and thought that their relationship was as close to perfect as anyone could get. He didn’t want to see them arguing, to hear the raised voices. So instead he shut the door to his room and hoped that everything would still be okay in the morning.

O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O

After Harry had left the room Snape leaned back into the couch, staring at his fuming husband. He waited for a long moment, wondering if the other man would finally breach his tipping point and at last say something. He tapped the bandage as he examined it. The pain had almost faded completely and he knew that his wound would be mostly healed by the next morning. Despite his anger Alex was a great mediwizard. Still he fumed by the fireplace and Severus knew there was no way that they were going to walk out of this room without some sort of fight.

“Must we go through this now?” Snape flinched as the crystal tumbler crashed on the floor. The glass and liquor coated the floor but neither man made a move to clean it up.

“Go through what, Severus?” Alex sneered, finally turning around. His expression was thunderous. Alex was normally one to control his temper, unlike Severus who dealt with anger with sharp tongued insults, smiling in front of the rage. In the end he would erupt like a volcano. Going from nothing to berserk in an instant once something finally tipped him. After that there was little anyone could do, though Severus was in no mood to try and alleviate the anger. To tiptoe around his husband.

“We have had this conversation before. This is something I must do. There is not use in being angry.” Snape sighed.

“Am I not supposed to be angry when my husband leaves me alone in bed to go kneel at the feet of a mad man only to return home bleeding and tortured. Your hands are still shaking from the cruciatus curse.” He demanded, pointing to the tremors. Snape shifted his hands so that they were folded in his lap.

“I am needed. A little pain far outweighs the benefits of having someone attend the meetings.” Snape snipped back.

“Your death is not a benefit.” Alex sneered. “This is where this godforsaken crusades of yours ends. With you in the ground. Why can you not see that?”

“I can see that quite well,” Snape stated in a placid tone. “That does not change the fact that I am the only one who can do what I do. There needs to be someone in his inner circle and that is me. My death, though tragic, may be a necessary part of this war.”

“There are other people who can spy.” Alex growled.  He was pacing the living room like an agitated cat, swinging his arms and snarling under his breath. Severus swept his wand to get rid of the glass so the man would not cut his feet.

“There is no other person who has the access and skills that I have.” Snape replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We have discussed this. There is no way we can win this war without knowing what the Dark Lord is planning.”

“We are not at war!” Alex shouted. “He may be back but he has yet to do anything. His followers are locked up and he is weak. Why do you need to start so soon?” Severus scoffed.

“You do not know anything about war.” He hissed back

“This again?”

“Yes this again. It is a valid critique since it is coloring your view. Most of the last war was fought in the shadows. This is how this one will be as well. We are not all going to march out onto a field and bow to one another. The Dark Lord will work with subterfuge. He will infiltrate the government and continue working on the plans he had laid out so long ago. No one who has not seen the damage he has done right in front of them can understand just how dangerous that man is. Just because the war was quiet does not mean it was less deadly. Under estimation of your enemy will be your downfall. You know this.”

“You are just paranoid.” Alex replied in his defense though not nearly strong enough.

“Do you know how many people have returned to his side? Go on, guess.” The man prodded.

“Thirty, forty.” Alex shrugged but from his expression Snape knew the man was guessing high in an attempt to not look fooled.

 “Over one hundred and twenty. More in the next couple of weeks if he manages to track down some of those that went into hiding. And how many of those people are already planted in our government? How many have strength in the underworld? Worse yet, how many do you think have influence in both?” Severus sneered.

“The Dark Lord may be mad but he has not lost his ability to think. He is having a second chance at a war. He gets to start over and he is no longer the wet behind the ears pup who lost to a babe. He knows which mistakes are to be avoided, which plans won’t work and which ones will. In his time as an incorporeal being he had learned patience. He has also crossed the bounds of magic in his attempt to regain his body and will no longer have any compunctions to do so again. Give him any time to work unsupervised and he will take far more than we could ever recover. Last time we nearly lost to him because everyone underestimated him until it was too late. It took a chance of fate to stop him. Now he is stronger, wiser and less afraid.”

“Do you think that makes it easier? Knowing that he is madder and more cunning than before?” Alex asked. “Am I supposed to smile happily as you sacrifice yourself as a lamb? You are a Slytherin, goddammit.”

“I don’t expect you to be happy. I expect you to be pragmatic. To be a Slytherin yourself.” Snape pointed a finger at his husband. “Self-preservation may be one of the tennets of Slytherins Code but it is not the main one. One must be willing to sacrifice to get their ambitions. I expect you to understand and respect that.”

“And what is your ambition in all this?” Alex asked with a quiet tone, finally stopping his erratic pacing to stare at his husband. “What ambition do you have that you would be willing to end up dead?” Snape groaned and covered his eyes dramatically. “What?”

“There is no way to say this without sounding incredibly corny.” He huffed.

“Tell me anyway.”

“There is one thing that I need more than my own life. That is you in a safe world. With The Dark Lord existing in this plane there is no way that you will be able to continue to have a safe life.”

“You were right.” Alex said after a long moment. “That was incredibly corny. I almost wish you hadn’t said it.” He let out a soft chuckle.

“Then you will respect me decision? Are you willing to accept my reasons and let me do as I wish?”

“I am not stupid enough to agree to let you do as you wish.” Alex replied, an affronted look. “But I can understand, to some degree, what you want. I will get off your back. Now let’s get you upstairs.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned! Yes, I am back. Much like the asshole who offers to do the most important part of the project and then procrastinates until everyone is uncomfortable. Who ever said that senior year of college was the easy one was such a liar and deserves as bad as a punishment imaginable. Thank you all for the lovely reviews. Hopefully you will enjoy this chapter though it does feel a little preachy to me. Though since that is kinda the entire point of this series, I think I can be forgiven. The next chapter will be a happier I promise.  
> Note: for those who are wondering about the Voldemort-Harry connection. At the moment Voldemort is unaware of the bond. Instead his strong emotions are filtering through to Harry. Harrys are not going to his because he can occlude his mind.

Harry walked into the kitchen the next morning with extreme trepidation. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to see when he entered the room. The possibilities were endless. They could be in a stolid silence, glaring at each other. Maybe one of them got hurt. Harry was pretty sure that Snape wouldn’t raise a hand to his husband but he was not naive and knew that every person had the ability for violence. Or even worse, one of them could not be there.

His fears were quickly doused when he made it to the kitchen. Both men were up, Snape was sitting at the table with the newspaper spread in front of him. Alex was at the stove, frying bacon with a little hum. There wasn’t the heavy silence of repressed anger hanging over them. Had Harry not heard the beginnings of their argument last night he would have assumed that it was just any other morning.

“Good morning.” Harry stated, sliding into his chair. The table was already set so there wasn’t anything that he had to do.

“Good morning Harry.” Alex called back, Snape just grunted in acknowledgment.

“Do you need any help with breakfast?” He offered.

“Just about done. Sorry I won’t be able to eat with you boys this morning. Called into an early meeting with a client.” Alex explained, scooping the food onto the plate. He grabbed it and the bowls of oatmeal he had prepped over to the table. He also had a Tupperware containing his own oatmeal and two pieces of bacon sitting between his fingers like a cigarette. “I will be seeing you later.”

“Have a good day. Do not get into any trouble.” Snape warned, dropping his paper long enough to accept a kiss to the cheek.

“You know I can’t do that.” Alex said with a chuckle. He grabbed his breakfast and his briefcase before disappearing into the fireplace.

“Umm, Professor.” Harry started, not quite sure how to ask his uncomfortable questions. He was stopped by Snape folding his paper with a small shake of his head.

“Please, let us wait till after breakfast for this conversation. I’m sure there is a lot you want to talk about and there will be time for that.”

“Okay.” Harry agreed in a soft tone. Truth was, he wasn’t quite ready either. Instead he tucked eagerly into his food. With quick and efficient bites he decimated the bowl, all his nervous energy pouring into his spoon. When he was finished he picked up his bowl and brought it over to the dishwasher. Snape was eating at his normal sedate pace and wasn’t even halfway through his bowl. So Harry entertained himself by washing the pan and other dishes that had accrued in the sink. He kept a careful watch on his professor, swooping in to pick up his bowl when it was empty. Snape raised an eyebrow but let it happen.

“Let’s go to the sitting room.” Snape led the way. Using his wand like a conductor he moved the furniture so that the couch and an arm chair faced each other, the coffee table in between the two. A silver teapot was summoned from the kitchen and joined by two teacups. Snape swept into his chair with an ease Harry figured he would never have. With a few sharp raps of his wand the pot was filled with water and began a rolling boil. A tea infuser was dropped in and set to steep. Harry sat on the couch, hands clasped in his lap as he watched the man go through is ritual. The potions professor cooked, made tea, and created potions the same way. With the same steady-hand surety of long practiced motions. After he had finished Snape settled back into his chair. For a long moment the two stared at each other.

“What do you know about legilimency?” Snape asked, breaking the silence.

“Legilimency? Isn’t that mind reading.” Harry queried, wondering why he was bringing it up.

“In simplistic terms, I supposed you are technically correct.” Snape sighed in the same way he did in class when someone answered ‘can anyone identify this?’ with the horribly dumb answer ‘a potion’. “Legilimency is a branch of mind magic. It is the act of permeating a person mind. It is not simply reading the thoughts of another person. Instead it allows a person to pierce through memories, usually in the search of information.”

“That’s . . . horrifying.” Harry replied, shuddering at the thought of someone messing around in his mind.

“Yes, it is an unpleasant experience. For that reason it is illegal to legilimize someone without their express permission and the teaching of the skill is highly regulated.” Snape explained, glanced at his watch before pouring the tea. He handed Harry his cup and gave him a moment to doctor it the way he wanted to. “I am telling you this because of what we are going to eventually talk about. I do trust that you can keep a secret. However, no amount of loyalty will prevent a legilimens from taking what he wishes. The Dark Lord and many of his followers have the skill and that is a very dangerous thing.”

“But if I can’t do anything about it, does that mean you aren’t going to tell me anything?” Harry queried, unhappy at the thought of being told that he couldn’t get answers to his questions.

“No. This relationship we have built is heavily relying on a certain amount of trust. As such, deliberately keeping information that may affect you would be counterproductive to your healing as these session would no doubt become less effective.”  Snape rubbed a thumb across his lip in contemplation. “As such I am going to have to extract a promise from you. You will need to learn to protect your mind. For now you are safe, as legilimens for the most part need eye contact. However, soon you will be back with the wizarding public and will into be nearly so safe. That means I will have to start teaching you occlumency. You must promise me that you will learn it quickly and study hard.”

“Of course.” Harry immediately agreed. Even without the threat he would’ve agreed. Anything that would prevent someone from breaking into his brain would be a welcome skill to learn.

“Good. Until you learn the skill I will ask you to wear this in public.” Snape handed over a ring. It was silver and consisted of three bands that were braided together. Harry examined it for a moment before slipping it onto the middle finger of his right hand. The ring immediately shrunk to fit him perfectly. “That is a protection spell to prevent mind magic. However, it is not perfect. Mind magic is complicated and powerful. As such, brute force protection such as that will only block the most basic and weak attacks. I doubt that on a normal day you will meet a skilled legilimens so this shall protect you until you learn the skills that you need to protect yourself.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, looking down at the ring again.

“Now you have questions.” Snape stated, letting the non-question hang in the air.

“You and Mr. Dawsen . . . You were arguing . . . Is everything-“ Harry cut himself off, not sure how to phrase the question. How to put all his silly fears into words.

“Have we worked through our disagreement?” He offered, Harry nodded. “Yes we have. After a frank discussion we found a place where we could agree and have moved on.

“You were yelling a lot.” Harry mumbled.

“Yes that can happen. How did that make you feel?” He asked, face conspicuously blank.

“I don’t know. Uncomfortable . . . sad . . . a little afraid.” Harry finally answered, blushing at his small and childish his voice sounded to his ears.

“And why do you feel like that.”

“Like what?”

“Afraid. When Alex and I were arguing why were you afraid?”

“I don’t know. It’s just, he was yelling . . . and I heard the glass break. You guys just seemed so . . . perfect for each other. I guess I was afraid that it was ruined. That you guys would break.”

“That we might hurt each other?” Snape supplied. Harry shrugged, not wanting to admit the thought had come into his head. People did bad things when they were angry, he had seen enough in his life to know that. But it was also like an insult to think that Snape or Alex would do anything like that.

“It is an understandable fear Harry.” He picked up his own teacup for a sip. “In your life you have seen a lot of violence, especially associated with anger. It is no surprise that you would associate it whenever someone gets angry, even if they do not seem the type of person to use violence. I will put your mind at ease, no such thing happened and most likely never will happen. Alex enjoys being overdramatic when he is anger and does, on most occasions, revel in breaking something. Much in the way that I encouraged you, taking your anger out on an inanimate object, while not great, is much better than taking it out on a living being.”

“We would never strike each other.” Here Snape was lying a little bit. Both he and Alex were hot tempered and in their younger years were far more volatile. Both men had explosive tempers that could just as easily erupt at each other as someone else. As well as a little darkness that thirsted for blood.  While Harry had thought they had the perfect relationship, it wasn’t always that way. It was never to the level that would count as physical abuse there had been arms swung on a few occasions. Though he would never say anything like that to the boy or ever encourage it in another’s relationship. It was just the reality of his life.

“I just didn’t think that you guys would ever fight like that.” Harry mumbled into the rim of his cup.

“We are only human. We do disagree. Though I would mention that even the best relationships have some amount of differing opinions. It is human nature and unavoidable. However, the sign of a healthy relationship rests more on how you deal with disagreements. It doesn’t even mean that you have to agree at the end of the argument. Instead it is important to listen and respect the other person’s feelings. To acknowledge their position and not to immediately rebuff it because it is different from yours. If you can do that you will find yourself in a strong relationship.” Snape explained.

“So you guys did that?”

“Yes. Our opinions still differ on the subject. But I understand where Alex is coming from and acknowledge it. I promised to do my best to respect his wishes in my own actions. He agreed to allow me to continue to do what I believe I need to do. As such the argument is finished and we are better for it.”

“Okay.” Harry nodded in understanding, the knot in his chest slowly releasing. He didn’t know what he would do if he had heard a different answer. In his mind all he could think is that if they could not remain together then no one could.

“What where you doing?” Harry asked, looking directly at his professor for the first time this whole conversation.

“I was at a Death Eaters meeting.”

“Death Eater?!” The teacup in his hand shattered as he gripped it out of reflex. He scrambled as he tried to wipe off the tea that was in his lap. “You’re still a Death Eater?!”

“Yes and no.” Snape snapped. He brandished his wand, fixing the cup and making the spilt tea disappear. “I am a Death Eater, though I am there only in a capacity of a spy.”

“A spy.”

“Yes. And such privileged information is why you will wear that ring until you can protect your mind and protect my status.”

“I don’t understand . . . how can you just stand there and . . . just pretend to be that evil?” Harry asked. Here there was a long pause. Snape was staring at him with his uneasy, soul-piercing stare. Harry shuffled uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Perhaps you will better understand where I am now if you know how I got to where I am now.” Snape sighed.

“Alex has already divulged a small amount of my childhood, correct?” He waited for Harry to nod his head. “I was born to a muggle father who was an aggressive drunk who hated magic. While my mother loved him, he did not love her. He was trapped into marriage after a night together with my mother which ended with me. His bitter resentment permeated through my childhood, often resulting in physical beatings. Since he was a drunk he was rarely employed and our family was poor. Before coming to Hogwarts I had only one friend in my entire life, and that was your mother. But for the first nine years of my life I was alone.

“Hogwarts was both a saving grace and a torture of its own sort. As a Slytherin there was a large bias against me and my kind. Not long before I had come to school Grindelwald had marched through the wizarding world and had sullied the names of Slytherins. Those in my own house all but ignored me. I was talented so they did not actively try and sabotage me but I was still a half-blood so I was not worthy of interacting with. In my fourth year there began to be whispers. Talk of a powerful man that would bring back the glory of the wizarding world. That gave hope to those who had been deemed unworthy of society.

“Hope is a powerful thing Harry,” Snape sighed unhappily. “For every person it is the one thing that can truly never be taken from you. You could go to a man who has been surrounded by dementors in Azkaban for twenty years and the rest of his life on his sentence. Still he would have hope that there is a chance of escape, whether that be a miracle or death.”

“Sirius said that.” Harry interrupted. “He said that hope was something that they couldn’t take away from him. That and the knowledge that he was innocent.”

“Yes, exactly. However, the problem is that hope can be corrupted and manipulated. A person can blacken another’s hope by promising them whatever they wish and proclaiming that they were the ones who could get it for them. That is what the Dark Lord did. This was during a time of great revolution. Muggleborns and magical creatures were gaining rights and power. It is an unfortunate fact of human nature that seeing someone raise to power feels like someone taking power from you. You can see it in blood purists, racists and sexists. You would hope that a person would look at someone who was systematically put down being raised to equality as a raise in power for everyone. But those who always stood at the top, well, some of them view it as an attack on them. That it was unfair and unbalanced because they liked the status quo as it was.

“Pureblood were feeling that anger deeply and quietly. The Dark Lord was speaking their anger, allowing what was festering into the light. And then he gave them the hope that they would have that power again. That someday they would have all the power and riches that their ancestors had for so long. Quickly, people were falling to his feet. Those who had been raised on the ideals that blood purity meant everything. It is not right, but understandable to some degree.

“I was not the same. Blood purity meant nothing to me. But I was alone. As you no doubt felt, those who have been isolated often yearn for the approval of those around them. The same way that you refused Dracos hand when those around you made it clear that he was not part of the ‘accepted’ group.” Harry blushed at that. That had been a nasty revelation when they eventually spoke about why he had been so desperate to not be a Slytherin when the hat had wished to place him there. After speaking about it he had realized that his view of the house had been colored by both Hagrid and Ron before he even knew anything about Hogwarts.

“I had been promised the company and acknowledgement of my peers that I had always wished for. The Dark Lord had promised that those who had strong magic power and true knowledge of magic would have a high place in the new world order, regardless of their blood, as long as they were not purely muggle born. I had desired that so strongly. That I would get the acknowledgment for my skills and that those who looked down on me would be looked down upon themselves.

“But then I joined the group and was quick to find out that it was not as it seemed. The Dark Lord had spoken about taking control of the Ministry and changing the laws so that only those who were truly magic could rule. He spoke like a politician, like a war general, not like a genocidal maniac. Then suddenly, it seemed everything was about brute force and fear. There was no talk about changing laws but rather ridding the world of those who were unworthy. No matter my desire to be accepted I could not accept the brutal massacre of those who were innocent.” Snape did not mention how long it actually took, because the answer still shamed him to this day. Especially since the reason for the scales falling from his eyes was not really his own morality but his selfishness.

“So I went to Dumbledore. I could not leave. I was forever marked and even if I tried to defect I knew I would be hunted down and killed as a traitor. So instead I went to the light and became a spy. In fact, I became a spy for both sides. The Dark Lord allowed me to join, thinking that he would be getting information on Dumbledores plans. So I was both able to give the light side information on his movements and plans, while also giving him incorrect information about what we were doing.

“I was trying to repay my mistakes, and to protect those who deserved to be protect.” Snape finished, his voice rough from unspoken emotion. Harry tried not to stare at the man who had just unloaded so much onto him.

“So you are still spying?”

“Yes, I have returned so that we may have the advantage as early as possible.”

“Do you think . . . do you think that may ever happen to me? That I would do horrible things because someone tricked me?” Harry asked, trying not to think about the parallels to his own life.

“Honestly?” Snape leaned back causally in his chair. “It is always possible. Humans have an equal capacity to do as much good as they do bad. However, if you stay diligent and close to your morals it will be near impossible for someone to get you to do great evil. Do not make the mistake I made. There is no one person who can save you more than yourself. There is no perfect world and violence against the defenseless will never be the way.”

“Okay.”

“Do you feel better now that you know more.”

“Yes? And maybe no. I’m happy you told me. I wanted to be able to understand and now I do. But to think that you went through so much and are going to still. I don’t like that. I also do like the idea that so many people could do so much bad just because they think they deserve more power.” Harry sighed.

“An unfortunate part of growing older is realizing that the sentiment will never truly disappear.” Snape agreed.

“Thank you, for telling me everything.”

“Your welcome. Now unless you have any more question we can go to the lab. We will begin your occlumency training another day.” Harry was happy for the change in subject and quickly help pack up the tea tray. For the rest of the day he helped his professor work on potions. When Alex finally returned home he watched the two of them with sharp eyes. Though they acted just as they always do, teasing and prodding each other as if they had never fought. At least that, Harry thought as he went to bed, was still okay.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Well it is Finals season but I did have just enough time to finish this chapter. Happy chapter, nice chapter. Though with a little bit of angst, because I am incapable of resisting temptation and I love myself some hurt boys.   
> It’s nice and long so I hope you enjoy it. There are only a few more chapters with Harry during the summer, got to start moving towards school, though I need those few chapters to set some stuff up. Hope you all enjoy and thanks to everyone who reviewed.

“Today we are going to the park.” Alex announced.

“What in the world are you talking about?” Snape lowered his paper to gaze at his husband.

“A park? A patch of greenery that humans have designed in an attempt to forget that they have already destroyed the natural world around them. An area for families and the community to gather and interact.” Alex snarked back.

“I suppose you think that was wit?” Snape asked with an arched eyebrow. “I know what a park is, you annoyance. Why in the world do you think we are going to a park?”

“Because it is Saturday. The weather is nice for once in this sun-forsaken country of ours. You have spent near every day of this summer in the basement in your lab. To make it worse, you have seemed to have corrupted Harry. So we will be going out.”

“Will we?”

“Yes.” Then the silent staring contest started. The quiet battle raged on for a full two minutes.

“I have work to do.” Snape said, looking to pick the newspaper up again.

“You have three hours.” Alex commanded. “If you do not join us in that time you will be punished in a most horrific way.” The silent war continued, both men refusing to back down. However, the appearance of the threat seemed to shift the tide since Snape eventually sighed and pulled the paper closer to his face. “Now off you pop, Harry. Go change your clothes and I’ll have everything packed by the time you are back down.”

Harry bolted up the stairs, eager to get out of the house. While he did enjoy being there, there was a lot to be said about being under the sun. He couldn’t leave the house without permission and he wasn’t stupid enough to try and sneak out. He quickly slipped into a pair of jeans, a graphic tee and a pair of trainers. The sun was out and it was the middle of summer but it was still Britain, so the day was still retaining a bit of its chill. He patted Hedwig on the head, getting an indignant hoot and he shouted his goodbyes to Labyrinth. By the time he came barreling down the stairs Alex was at the door, a wicker picnic basket in hand. He was wearing a pair of jeans as well, a solid emerald green t-shirt and a pair of sunglasses.

“Are you ready? Well let’s get you spelled up so we can be on our way.” He motioned Harry closer and pulled out his wand. He went through the complicated steps of the spell with practiced ease. Soon he was following Harry out of the door and into the sun, taking a moment to turn and shout. “Remember, three hours! Or I am bringing out the fish!”

“The fish?” Harry inquired as they made their way down the road.

“Don’t ask.” Alex said with a little smile, fully aware that he was only making Harry more curious. It was a short walk to the park, barely ten minutes. Soon the paved streets turned to green lined cobble stone. The park they went to was fairly large. It was a vaguely ovular shape, surrounded by a paved a path with small cobble stone walkways. On one end of the park there was a pond, crystal clear blue with s flock of duck that seemed to perpetually bob on its calm waters. On the other end there was a large swatch of land that had been split into two areas, a football pitch and the bar area.

The bar area was a little shack that sold beer and mixed drinks in the after nood, an off shoot of the pub a little ways down the street, and the green lawn that surrounded it. There were lounge chairs and beanbags that were open to the public so that people could enjoy a drink with friends outdoors. But it was still early so the pub wouldn’t open for another couple hours.

“We should feed the ducks.” Alex smiled, heading over to the pond.

“What? Really?” Harry gave a surprised chuckle. He couldn’t think of a time that he had actually fed ducks. Given scraps to stray cats maybe. Every year students got raw meat and fed them to the giant squid. But ducks?

“Of course! It is summer. You feed ducks.” He said, as if that was the most obvious statement that could be made. As they walked to the lake the ducks began to drift closer to the bank, quacking happily at the sight of the approaching wizards, knowing that they were going to get a tasty treat. Alex put the basket on the ground and opened it. He reached in, his arm sinking in until he was down to his shoulder. He rooted around before he pulled out a bag of seeds.

“I thought you fed ducks bread?” Harry questions, accepting the bag when it was handed to him.

“It’s not good for them. It has too little nutritional value. They fill up on bread and don’t eat what they should. It can make them sick. Well go on. Give them a toss.”

Harry dug his hand into the bag and grabbed a small handful of the seeds. He tossed them like he was trying to skip a rock. There was a flurry as the area was swarmed with ducks. He smiled, enjoying the sight. When most of the seeds were nipped up he tossed out another hand. He felt the sun warm his skin. There was a small breeze ruffle past him. He reached up to brush at his fringe but stopped himself. He wasn’t in the wizarding world, he didn’t need to hide his scar. Here, it didn’t matter that he was Harry Potter. Here he wasn’t even Harry Potter at all. Instead he was just Snape’s nephew, a normal teenage boy. A boy feeding the ducks, not the savior defeating dark wizards or a celebrity avoiding the public.

A swell of pleasure rose up in him. A sense of peace permeated the air, which was occasionally broken with the unhappy quack of a duck taking offense to the speed at which they were tossing out food. He turned to look at Alex. The man had squatted down, offering his hand to a tiny duck that had been brave enough to waddle out of the water to get his food directly. He had a soft smile on his face as he looked down at the little creature. There was a sense of calm that always surrounded the man. Even when he was excitable and joking. Harry figured it was the peace that came with having a good life. Not perfect, but good. Silently he hoped that one day he would find that sort of serenity. That all that he has been through, and will eventually go through, will become something long in the past. That he can feed ducks with the same easy grin as the man in front of him.

“FUCK! Bastard!” Alex cursed. He was shaking his hand, no doubt smarting from the painful bite the duck had just landed on his fingers. Harry laughed as he swore like a sailor. The duck had waddled off, and if ducks had the ability to look smug this one certainly was trying. The beast wandered up to the edge of the pond, taking a moment to look back at the now furious lawyer with a smile in its little eyes. Harry roared, his side hurting from the pain of his laughter as Alex threatened.

“Goddamn duck! That’s it, we are having duck for dinner. I’ll keep you alive as I pluck every feather you beast!” He yelled to the now retreating bird.

“Alex! Yoohoo!” A voice called from behind them. Mrs. McArthur was approaching them. She was wearing a bright yellow dress that was covered in pink flowers. She had a wide brimmed sun hat on her head. She waved as she approached them. Trailing behind her was a boy. He was taller, standing a full head higher than the woman. He was obviously her son, he had her same face shape and eyes. He was lanky, limbs long from a recent growth spurt no doubt. He had short brown hair that been spiked up. He was wearing a football jersey and a pair of shorts, a football tucked in the corner of his arm.

“Mrs. McArthur.” Alex beamed, his righteous anger gone in a flash.

“Sherry. You promised.” She admonished with a wagging finger.

“Of course. Of course, my apologies. Out to enjoy the weather?” He questioned.

“It is quite beautiful today. I figured that since Daniel was coming out to play that I would join him in the sun. I can see that you are feeding the ducks. It is good to see you again Harry.” She jumped happily through her conversation, the pleasant smile on her face never wavering.

“You too.” Harry replied.

“This is my youngest son Daniel. I did promise that I would introduce you two. Daniel, this is Harry, he is Severus’s nephew. He has been staying with them this summer.”

“Nice to meet you.” Daniel addressed Harry with a crooked grin.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“I was just talking to Daniel about his football game. It seems like they have an uneven number since Molly’s boy got the summer flu and can’t join. Here I was thinking that you might want to join them.” Mrs. McAthur offered.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t played in a really long time.” Harry suddenly felt very nervous, he dug the toe of his shoe into the dirt.

“That’s okay.” Daniel said. “We are just playing for fun. Plus we do really need another person to join so that everyone can play.”

“Go on, Harry. I’m just going to stay here and chat with Sherry. Go have some fun.” Alex pressed his hand on his back, encouraging him to take a step forward. Harry summoned up his Gryffindor courage and followed Daniel.

“Do you really live with Mr. Snape?” The boy asked.

“Yeah.”

“You must be brave. That man can scare the shit out of me.” Daniel gave a shudder. Harry laughed, since that was the normal response to professor Snape.

“Me too! I also go to the school that he teaches at. I can’t tell you how many detentions that he’s given me!” Harry groused happily.

“Hey mates! I found us another!” There were six boys bunched together on the pitch, chatting loudly.

“Really? That great.” One of the boys piped up. None of them looked angry at a random stranger joining their game. Instead they looked pleased at his presence.

“I’m Harry nice to meet you.” A barrage of greetings came in reply.

“Right, let split up and have some fun!” Daniel said. Harry wanted to burst. It was barely a full minute before they were separated into two groups of four and playing. He wasn’t good, stumbling and tripping over his feet occasionally. Still he was having fun. He joked with everyone with every tumble and did his best to actually score. Laughter filled the air as they boys played.

O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O

“How are you doing my dear?” Mrs. Mc Arthur asked.

“Oh I am doing fine. And you?”

“Just great dear. I always love having Daniel home. With most of my children out of the house it’s nice to have the place filled again.” They lapsed into a comfortable small talk. They mentioned how great the weather was, how slow the bin men were coming around, how Meredith down the street had a new man who played in a band. Eventually they fell into a silence as they watched the boys play.

“Poor thing always looks so tired.” Mrs. McArthur commented, following Harry with her eyes.

“Hmm?” Alex grunted, confused at the comment. From the way he could see it Harry had endless energy as he chased his new friends around the pitch.

“Tell me, are his parents really overseas?” She queried, giving him a sly side glance. Alex chuckled, reminding himself to never underestimate the observational powers of a mother.

“No.” He replied softly. “His parents died a while ago. He was living with a different uncle until recently.”

“Did something happen?”

“At Severus’s school. There was a . . . tragedy that occurred with another boy. Harry happened to witness it. With everything that happened we figured it would be better if Harry stayed with us.” Alex tried to remain as vague as possible. Mrs. McArthur hummed quietly.

“You can see it in his eyes, the poor thing. Tragedy affects children so deeply.”

“Yes it does.”

“He looks better though. Calmer, happier. Whatever you and Severus are doing is working. I have seen children with the same look that never get the help they need. You are good for him.” She commented.

“Ah, that’s right. You used to work for child services, yes?”

“I did. The best and worst thing I have ever done. I was always pleased when I could help a child, but to know how many never get saved. It’s hard to live with.” Her tone was now somber, a deep look in her eyes as she examined the playing children.

“Yes, I think I understand that.” Alex truly did. He had seen Severus experience the same emotions. He spent his whole life trying to save children but he was not perfect and there were some that he was never able to truly help. Alex had always watched this as a bystander, hopping in occasionally when he was needed but never getting truly invested. Harry was different though. Alex was tied to him now. Even if the boy left today he knew he would be wondering about him in fifty years, hoping he was well and happy. And now he could really imagine how it would feel to know everything he did, despite it being so little, and not being able to help him. His brow furrowed as he thought of the future, which for Harry was certainly not going to be great.

“Thank you, for the compliment.” Alex bowed his head to her. “I’m glad that there has been a change. Though I worry. So much has happened to him. And yet I know there is more to come. He isn’t going to have an easy life.”

“Perhaps not. But he will not have to struggle with his future problems broken. What you are doing will keep him strong when times are tough. There is nothing better than having good support and I know you, you and Severus will not leave him wanting in that regard.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are very wise?” Alex joked, breaking the tension. Mrs. McArthur laughed boisterously.

“I am very old, my dear. I would hope that I would learn something over the years!” She patted him on the arm. “Now tell me what you brought for your picnic. I’m assuming that you are getting Severus out here to join you?”

O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O

The boys played for two hours. By the time the other boys were called in for lunch Harry had soaked his shirt in sweat and his jeans were stained green from the grass. He waved as the other boys left, calling out promises to play again, and next time play better. When he went back to Alex the man had found a place on the lawn. He had spread a large tartan sheet that was twice as big as a normal blanket. He was lying on his back, hand tucked behind his head. He took off his shoes, using them to weigh down the corners of the blanket.

Snape was there. He had apparently arrived when Harry was off playing. He was wearing a pair of black slacks and a black t-shirt. Harry couldn’t help but notice the dark mark that stood out on his arm. The man normally kept it covered so Harry had really only seen it in passing. He was lounging on the blanket sitting with one arm stretched behind him to keep him upright. In his other hand he held a book that should’ve been held with both hands for safety reasons. The thing was absolutely enormous. As Harry got closer he could see the title on the cover. ‘The Effect of Acidic Gooler Berries on the Potency of Various Mood Enhancing Potions’. Not exactly light reading.

“Hullo.” Harry greeted them when he finally got to the edge of the blanket.

“Your back! Did you have fun?” Alex asked.

“Yeah! They were really nice. Though it has been so long since I have played. I wasn’t exactly the best at staying upright.” He motioned to his greened up knees. Tomorrow he would probably have some light bruising but it was worth it.

“It quite amazing. You have the ability to out fly people many decades older than you, yet you struggle to remain standing on your own two feet.” Snape purred, not bothering to pull his nose from a book. Alex smacked him lightly for the insult and sat up.

“Should we eat?” Without waiting for a reply he began to unpack the basket. He pulled out dish after dish until their little spot looked more like a buffet than a picnic. There were small finger sandwiches of a half dozen different types. There were bowls of cut fruit, salad, and other side dishes. A Pyrex plate of pasta casserole came out next. A few bags of crisps followed quickly. Finally he pulled out a large plate of homemade cookies and a baking tray of treacle tart.

Alex handed them plates and silverware, begging them all to dig in. Harry did so happily. Thanks to Snapes potions and the wonders of puberty he was going through a bit of a growth spurt, thank Merlin for that. While he was quite happy for the extra inches he was getting the, constant hunger and ache in his bones were unpleasant to say the least.

“Harry have I told you about the time that Severus and I were at a party and got trapped in a closet together?” Alex asked. Harry shook his head.

“If you must tell him that story I would hope that you emphasize how that entire evening was purely your fault.” Snape snipped, a small smile on his lips regardless. With that permission Alex was off trying to weave his tale in a way that didn’t make him look as bad as it did. They continued to chat through the entire meal. Mostly Alex would share stories with Snape interjecting with a derisive comment or correction. Alex would pout playfully at each one but acknowledged each one as true. Harry shared a few stories of his own. Things he had done with Ron and Hermione during his years at school. Pranks he had seen the twins do, though he was smart enough not to mention any of the ones where Snape had been the target of their . . . misplaced affections.

Eventually they all stopped eating, Harry after he was so full that he was sure he was going to burst. The food was packed away with a quick glance around and a discreet wand wave. Harry chose to pull one of the bean bags over so that he could sit up bit without having to hold himself up the way professor Snape was. Alex, on the other hand, had a different idea.

“I wish for you to spoil me.” Alex announced, laying his head on his husbands lap, arm dramatically pressed to his forehead. Snape lowered his novel with an unimpressed look. He closed it and rapped him lightly on the top of the head.

“Do I not do that already?” He asked, exasperation coloring his tone playfully. Harry stifled a giggle behind his hand.

“I want you to read me a poem. Today seems like a day for poetry.” Alex proclaimed, motioning to the bright blue sky as proof. “Something happy and joyous.” Harry wondered what Snape was going to do. He was surprised when the man reached into the picnic basket and pulled out another book that had been packed away with the food. It was different than the one in his hand, it was slim. The pages were yellowed and it was bound in a worn leather. The long potion stained fingers flicked through the pages before stopping suddenly.

Alex sunk deeper into his lap as the potions master began to recite in his deep bass tone.

_“There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,_

_The earth, and every common sight,_

_To me did seem_

_Apparell'd in celestial light,_

_The glory and the freshness of a dream.”_

Harry glanced around the park as the words washed over him. He could see the children playing and the people walking. Families sat bunched together, laughing and talking. The raucous sound of simple joy seemed to be brightened and sharpened by the poetic words. The happiness in the air a little thicker and the peace lighter.                      

_“It is not now as it hath been of yore;—_

_Turn wheresoe'er I may,_

_By night or day,_

_The things which I have seen I now can see no more.”_

Harry wondered as he watched. Is this what it would be like if he had his family? Would his mother have insisted his father take off work so that they could enjoy the sun? Would she have made them lunch, a basket full of all their favorites? Spread out a blanket and pulled off her shoes. Would she have done this when Harry was a child, holding him close in her lap as they looked up at the bright blue sky?

         “ _The rainbow comes and goes,_

_And lovely is the rose;_

_The moon doth with delight_

_Look round her when the heavens are bare;_

_Waters on a starry night_

_Are beautiful and fair;”_     

Would his father have pushed him to go and play with the other boys? Would he have not been a stranger but rather a close friend with all of those who came to the park? Would he have brought his own football? Would he have invited the new kid to the neighborhood to play?

_“The sunshine is a glorious birth;_

_But yet I know, where'er I go,_

_That there hath pass'd away a glory from the earth.”_

Would his father have insisted that he play too? Maybe he would have taken Harry to a wizarding park. Let him fly on his broom. Bring their old battered quaffle from home so that they could practice in the sun. Would he insist on teaching Harry his best moves, the ones he had shown him a dozen times before?

“ _Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song,_

_And while the young lambs bound_

_As to the tabor's sound,”_

His father wouldn’t have read his mother poetry. That much he knew, even though he knew so little. No, he would have told stories. Old tales of his times at Hogwarts, new tales of his times as an auror. He would jump around and make goofy faces as he lavished them with his tales. His mother would roar with laughter, hitting him on the arm when he used language that was not appropriate for children.

_“To me alone there came a thought of grief:_

_A timely utterance gave that thought relief,_

_And I again am strong:”_

Children. Would he have had brothers and sisters if his parents had lived? Maybe he would have had to join a tea party like the one the little girl had set up across the lawn, a fake crown and in the company of stuffed bears. Would he have had brothers that he wrestled with or taught how to throw a ball? Would he have been a good older brother?

_“The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep;_

_No more shall grief of mine the season wrong;_

_I hear the echoes through the mountains throng,_

_The winds come to me from the fields of sleep,”_

His mind wandered through his fantasy. The laughter and joy that might’ve been had he not been robbed of his childhood. A sharp twinge of sadness permeated through it. As his heart swelled with joy it clenched with melancholy. Why was he experiencing this type of peace with a professor and his husband? Why did the first time he ever felt like he was having a true family outing have to be with two people who probably shouldn’t have remembered his name. Even with the Weasleys he had felt a bit like an outsider, watching their easy family mesh with him waiting patiently on the side. And yet that felling never came when he was around these two. Instead he felt like he always imagine he would when he saw other families sitting together. It confused him, and to some degree angered him. Why was it like this, instead of the way it should have been. Why had he been robbed of this until he was near fifteen?

_And all the earth is gay;_

_Land and sea_

_Give themselves up to jollity,_

_And with the heart of May_

_Doth every beast keep holiday;—_

_Thou Child of Joy,_

_Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy_

_Shepherd-boy!_

Still he was glad that he was here. Even if he could not experience this with his own parents, with his own family, it wasn’t like he would prefer not to be here. Mr. Dawsen and Professor Snape, they had given him quite a lot in the few short weeks that he had been here. Comfort, a place to stay, experiences he never thought that he would have. As much as he was sad at the thoughts of what might’ve been, he was still happy here. Sitting on a blanket, listening to his professor spout poetry while his husband poked him as he said the word ‘gay’.

_“ The pansy at my feet_

_Doth the same tale repeat:_

_Whither is fled the visionary gleam?_

_Where is it now, the glory and the dream?”_

Snape finished with his deep voice trailing off after the question. Alex clapped happily and Harry joined in too.

“Are you happy now?” Snape snarked at him, snapping the book closed.

“Incredibly.” Alex sighed. “Today is a good day, don’t you think so Harry?”

“Yes,” Harry beamed. “Today is a good day.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. It has been a ridiculously long time. Yes. I do this every time I need to post a new chapter. Yes. I am aware that apologizing every time has whittled down my sincerity till it was nothing. My life has been a mess recently. In the last three months I had my final exams, final projects, six job interviews, traveled out of state 12 times, moved out of an apartment, moved into an apartment, and started a new full time position. Safe to say that I haven’t really had the time to sit down and think. Still, I did manage to finish this chapter and I have not abandoned this story. It will just probably take longer to get chapters out. I have to get settled into my new schedule because working early shift in a plant doesn’t leave you with much sleep.   
> Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Enjoy

The soil was warm between his bare toes. Or perhaps it was just warmer than the freezing fog that was pouring from between the trees. Harry was standing in the middle of a clearing, trees surrounding him fading into the black backdrop of the never ending forest.  The smell of mold and mildew seeped into him, his nose crinkled at the unpleasant smell. Harry wasn’t tempted to explore the forest though it wouldn’t have mattered if he had. Around his ankles sat two heavy metal cuffs, the cold iron digging into his delicate skin. The cuffs were attached to metal posts driven deep into the ground, a single chain link meaning Harry couldn’t do more than slide his foot two centimeters. His skin broke out in goose bumps as the fog continued to creep towards him, the water settling on his skin and sapping any warmth that his body had.

 _Harry_ the winds whispered. Harry whipped his head around looking for a source. A drop of water landing on his face made him look upward. Another drop quickly followed, and then another. Suddenly it was pouring. The water was hot and sticky, slowly dripping down his body. He gasped in surprised and that was when he realized that he wasn’t covered in water.

Blood. The coopery substance filled his mouth in a moment and his throat spasmed as he tried to gag and scream at the same time. He dropped his head, vomiting up the blood and what little bile he had festering in his stomach. As he heaved the rain fell hard, pushing on his shoulders until he couldn’t help but buckle. The ground dug into his knees, stones and sticks pricking his skin harshly, Harry kept his eyes screwed shut, desperate not to give the blood any entry into his body. His skin crawled in disgust but there was nothing left for him to throw up.

Just as suddenly as it started the rain stopped. Harry tried to stand, slipping across the slick grass that was now coated in living blood. Twice he crashed to the ground but still he needed to stand. He dig the heels of his hands across his eyes, using slick skin to try and brush away the syrupy blood. When he finally opened his eyes he was not alone.

Cedric was standing before him. His skin was a sickly grey, sunken, and wrinkled with time. Harry shuddered when he looked up expecting to find lifeless eyes and was greeted with empty chasms.

“The Potter boy. I want him.” The corpse hissed, not in the voice of the body’s owner but in the cold hisses of Lord Voldemort. “I will destroy him.”

From the fog a loud hiss shuddered the branches of the trees. A snake, the size of Nagini slid from the darkness. The silver scaled reptile slid towards Harry, fangs bared and eyes glowing with the sickly power of the killing curse. Harry tried to pull at his bonds but found that he could not move. He turned towards Cedric, looking for hope, for freedom. Cedric stared on with an eyeless and emotionless glare. Soft scales brushed against his ankle, jolting him back towards his hunter. The snake twisted around his leg, climbing his body. Harry tried to shake his leg but with the short chain he could barely move. He shuddered as he felt the muscles curling around his thigh and curling upwards. The body wrapped around his waist and then up and around his stomach.

The snake squeezed and Harry’s breath became shallow. He desperately tried to pull in air as he pushed against the beast. When he tried to push him off the head swung around and sunk his fangs into his hands. With a yelp he pulled his hand towards his chest. The bite was bright red, with trails of black creeping up his arm. The poison trickled up his arm, the cold pain seeping through his veins. The cool scales circles around his neck constricting his breath until all he could make was whiny little gasp. The snake turned its head towards himself, fangs dripping. All Harry could do was watch as snake launched himself forward.

O~~~~~~~~~~~~~O

With a shuddering gasp Harry woke up in his bed. With a curse he sat up. Nightmares had been plaguing him for a while now. Every morning he wondered if he should tell Snape and every morning he decided not to. It seemed so trivial. Nightmares had always been a constant in his life. These weren’t of past horrors or anything. Just his fucked up mind punishing him for Cedric. So instead he went through the routine of changing out of his sweaty pajamas and splashing water on his face so he didn’t look like he woke up petrified.

“ _Can the bat man not help?”_ Labyrinth hissed from his stone. For some reason he had been insisting that Snape has the essence of a bat. Harry had tried before to explain why the potions master was not Batman. But to do so he had to explain reading, then comics, then superheroes, then DC comics before finally getting to Batman. Since the snake normally lost his attention span when Harry started explaining how pictures become stories he had long given up. Now he will just have to deal with the brief images of his professor in spandex until Labyrinth decides on a new nickname.

“ _He doesn’t know.”_ Harry replied, pulling on his clothes for breakfast. He was a little later than normal. His internal wakeup call was beginning to relax.

 _“Why?”_ The snake badgered, black beady eyes trained on Harry as he tried to pat down his hair to no avail.

 _“Just because.”_ He huffed, not appreciating the snake sticking his scaly nose into his business. _“I’m going down now, I’ll bring you a mouse for dinner tonight.”_

Harry slipped down the stairs, vaguely wondering if there would still be food on the table. Not that he didn’t have full range of the kitchen when he wanted to but he was starting to enjoy having someone else cook for him. Not in the same way that the elves did, for hundreds of students like a conveyer belt. Having someone who cooked for him, well it made him feel warm.

He stopped just outside the kitchen when he heard the low murmur of conversation. Snape’s deep rumble paused for the light tenor of a response. Alex should have been gone by now. At ten o’clock on a Tuesday he should’ve been in his office a long time ago. The man in question was leaning over the kitchen table, staring closely at a large pile of newspapers. At least a dozen papers were spread across the dark wood.

“Harry.” Alex started when he heard his steps into the room.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, approaching the table. He watched as Alex placed his hand over one of the papers headlines. But his fingers could only partially cover the picture. Harry could recognize his own face, fluttering between a fake smile and a scowl from the photo shoot of the Triwizard champions.

“Potter, come and sit.” Snape directed, motioning to the chair to his left.

“Severus.” Alex growled, sending a nervous glance at Harry. Snape just raised an eyebrow and motioned to Harry again. Harry didn’t look away from the papers as he waked to the assigned seat.

“We would have shown you this earlier if we had known about it. Since neither I nor Alex are ones to read the societal pages we were unaware until we saw the Prophet this morning.” Snape explained, picking up a paper from the pile and throwing it so it landed with a distinct ‘thump’ in front of the teen.

HARRY POTTER INSANE OR ATTENTION SEEKER?

There has been much speculation about the mental state of Mr. Potter of late. There was a lot of confusion when Mr. Potter returned after being taken away covered in blood with the body of his school mate. He claimed, more than once that the person who did it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Some people claim that he was crazy, that he was hallucinating. A fe people said that it was because he saw something horrific, others say that he was crazy before and that he was now just showing his true colors.

Some people say that he is just doing it for attention. Now that the tournament has ended there would be no more reports on him. So instead he concocted a scandal in an attempt to get everyone talking about him. After over a month of speculation the Ministry had given its official statement.

“A great tragedy has befallen right before Mr. Potters eyes. It is our belief Bartimus Crouch Jr. did he best to convince Mr. Potter that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did return. We made it quite clear that it did not happen that way, to the public and Mr. Potter. We would not like to make a statement as to why Mr. Potter is still insistent on his side of the story.”

“What?” Harry yelped, accidentally crunching the paper in his hand.

“The ministry is still determined to deny the Dark Lords existence, which means they have officially decided to throw you under the bus. Unfortunately stories like that had been running for the last month and we hadn’t realized it.” Snape explained. He nodded towards the other pages on the table. A mural of headlines stood out, some calling him crazy, other sympathizing for the poor boy who saw a tragedy, while many berated him for being a fame hungry menace. There wasn’t a single title that didn’t make his blood boil.

“I saw the prophet this morning at work. When I asked my secretary about it she told me about the earlier stories.” Alex explained, scowling heavily at the writing.

“But . . . How could they? This isn’t fucking fair!” Harry yelled.

“Language Harry.” Snape admonished.

“Language?! Who the hell cares about my language when an entire government is calling me crazy on the front page of the damn newspaper?”

“And you shouting in my kitchen is going to change that how?” Snape raised an imperious eyebrow. Harry huffed but didn’t answer back, since there wasn’t a really good answer to that. He flapped his arms, angry at the world but with nothing to do about it. Eventually his silent hissy-fit settled down and he was just glaring at the paper. Both Alex and Snape were quiet as he tried to work through his anger.

“So what now?”

“Personally I would not be worried about those stories.” Alex said, looking intently at the paper in his hand, missing the incredulous look that Harry gave him.

“Not be worried? The fucking ministry is calling me a fame obsessed mad man!” Harry barked, smacking one of the papers. “What else would I worry about?”

“The opinions of the public is fickle. As a result the government is often switching opinions and changing their story. People may be obsessed with it now but if you manage to keep an even keel things will eventually settle down.” Alex explained. “Trust me, most people prefer to blame the government over a child. Better to stay out of a fight you won’t win and wait until the tides have shifted in your favor before you go and attempt to take on an entire legislative body. Better things to be concerned about. “

With a heavy look he handed the paper to his husband. Snape’s black eyes roved the page, searching for what his partner had failed to specifically point to. Suddenly his lips pulled into a sneer.  With a flick of his wrist he tossed the page so it landed on top of the pile and Harry could finally see what they were so unhappy about.

Dementors On The Loose!

Author: Bings Burgandy

Reports have just come in that two dementors were found on the loose in a muggle neighborhood. Last night at 7:48 pm the Aurors were called to the neighborhood of Little Winging to reports of an unnatural fog and intense depression. The two dementors had cornered a group of teenage muggle boys. The Aurors were quick to banish the creatures, stopping them before they could do any real damage.  There is wide spread fear that some of the dementors were going rouge. Since it is so difficult to fight them many are worried that if the dementors can get loose the havoc that they can wreak will be astronomical.

The ministry responded with comments that there is no danger of a mass escape of dementors from Azkaban. They maintain that they still have perfect control over the dark creatures and that there is no reason to worry.  The representative refused to comment on questions pertaining to the idea that if they have perfect control that they were sent there intentionally. They have, however, mentioned that you should always take normal safety precautions, but protection charms if you can and always have a means of communication in case of an emergency.

“That’s my neighborhood. Why were there dementors in my neighborhood?” Harry asked in stunned surprise.

“Why indeed.” Snape answered cryptically.

“I’m not sure.” Alex said, which was more direct but just as useless of a statement. “It could be a number of things. It could be that they really did get loose and the fact that they were found was just a large coincidence.” Here Snape interrupted with an audible tsk. “Yes I am well aware of your dislike of the belief in coincidence. My statement still stands. Though that might be the most preferred answer, it comes with its own lists of concerns we would have to deal with. The other options are more worrying.”

“What do you mean?”

“If it is not a coincidence that means it was intentional. Those creatures were sent to your neighborhood. You being the only wizard there would mean that they were sent there for you. And you don’t send dementors to invite someone to a tea party.” Snape sneered, giving Harry a look that Harry always translated to ‘why the hell do I have to answer these inane obvious questions to someone so useless’.

“If they were sent after you deliberately that could mean three things. One, that there is someone in the ministry that has a good amount of power that has an enormous grudge against you and fully intends to see it through. Two that this was sanctioned by the government itself, and our elected officials have decided that your life is worth less than the ability to keep the rise of Voldemort a secret.”

“And three?” Harry asked as the silence began to toe at uncomfortability.

“Three means that the Dark Lord has gained the loyalty of the Dementors and sent them after you. It means that he not only wants you dead but that he has more control of the government than we had even begin to think. That at any moment he could stroll onto Azkaban and release all of his most loyal followers and double his army in a day.”  Snape finally said, his voice deep and heavy as he gave his predication.

“Right.” Harry stated for lack of a better thing to say. “Well I can’t say that I like any of those options but some are worse than others.”

“That is a . . . succinct way to put it. Unfortunately there is little that we can do. As long as no one knows where you are there should be no real danger for you. Just remember to get your protection spells any time that you leave this barrier. We are lucky that we decided to sequester you here.” Snape said, pointedly ignoring the smug look that came over Alex’s face. “Until it is time for you to leave the best thing we can do is have you stay inside as much as possible.”

“But what if the ministry really is trying to kill me?” Harry asked, whipping his head between the both of them in search of an answer.

“There is little we can do without solid evidence.” Alex shrugged. “You do not go to war without knowing who your enemy is. For now we feign ignorance and let our enemies stew in their defeat. Someone who is as bold as this will show their hand before long. Then, we can begin thinking of ways to retaliate.” Harry wanted to grumble about that. He was more quick to action than either of these two long time Slytherins. Fast to protect himself and others at the slightest bit of danger or degradation. Though thinking on that, most of the time his “quick thinking” lead him into more trouble than it was worth.

“You really think that the person who did this will reveal themselves?” He queried, his fingers tapping on the black print like a twitch.

“I dare say that this was most likely a first attempt. Too poorly prepared and thought through to be a second or third attempt. To start with something so bold and out in the open for a first attempt at murder? This is a person with little subtly and they are likely to lash out due to the failure of their plans. If it is a single person, which it is most likely to be, then they will reveal themselves before long.” Snape explained, pulling a long sip from his coffee.

“On the note of revealing stupidity, I must be off.” Alex said, sweeping his suit jacket over his shoulder. He blew a kiss to Severus, patting Harry heavily on the shoulder as he passed by. “Don’t burn down the house again.” He called as he strode to the fire place.

“Don’t get arrested again.” Snape answered back, wicked grin on his face.

“One fucking time.” Alex muttered with a scowl as he disappeared into the flames. There was smoldering silence as the two were left alone in the kitchen full of newspapers. Harry dragged his finger against one, tracing the edge of a photo of himself. It was the group photo of the tournament where Rita had demanded that he sit in the chair circled by his competitors. The unhappy grimace on his face now seemed to radiate smugness next to the title. Suddenly the paper jumped from under his fingers. He glanced up to see them all flying towards the fireplace. They folded on top of each other before suddenly bursting into a bright flame, reminding Harry of the magician he had seen as a child, long before he knew magic was real.

“Sit and eat Harry. I dare say there is a lot of work to be done and things for you to learn. It is your OWL’s year after all.”

“Owls?” Harry queried.

“OWLs? Your examinations? I am sure that it has been mentioned a number of times in class.”

“Oh.” Harry tried to stop his blush. He had heard of them but tended to zone out in class when a professor brought them up. Snape sighed loudly. He raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Harry did not want to know what the man was muttering under his breath.

“Eat Harry.” So he ate.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my darlings. It has been a while hasn’t it? I don’t think that I can offer enough apologies, even if you would be willing to believe a single one. Regardless, we are moving on the story. This will be the last chapter where Harry is staying in the Snape-Dawsen household. As much as I’d like to stay here for the rest of the story the plot must move on.
> 
> Hopefully I will be seeing you again soon. Though I make no promises.

Harry lounged on the couch, his chin tucked down so that he could read the book he was holding on his chest. The low hum of the television was in the background of the room. He was alone, probably the only time he had been completely alone in the house since he has been here. Sure he had been alone in a room but normally it was with the knowledge that Snape was just down the hall, ready with a potion stirrer or book in hand. Today was different though.

Snape had left to go talk to a doctor. A psychiatrist, he said. An interview for a new doctor to talk to his students. Harry knew that Snape had multiple kids in his house that he would send out to doctors. In theory.  It was still hard to acknowledge that there were so many kids, so many Slytherins, which needed that kind of help. It was easy to acknowledge it with himself, he had sat in front of his potions professor staring at the black notebook of his fucked up mind. With Draco he could imagine it clearly because he had seen proof of the need himself. But to think that so many Pureblood, aloof, sneaky, Slytherins would need a therapist. It just didn’t seem real, and it made him feel all the worse. After all, plenty of people probably thought that about the golden boy Gryffindor.

To try and ignore the niggling feeling of pity, self and not, Harry decided to distract himself from the pestering silence. So he put on the TV and when that doesn’t work he grabs a book. He had grabbed a book called The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. A weird book of crazy aliens, the words ‘don’t panic’ and the absolute insistence that you never go anywhere without your towel. He was in the middle of the description of the terrible poetry of the Vulgans when the fire suddenly flared up. Assuming that it was Snape he barely glanced up from his page.

“Fuck.” A curse rung out in the room. Well, that wasn’t Snape. Harry dropped his book and rose in a flurry of limbs. He rose, wand in his hand to see a shock of blond hair. Out of the fireplace stumbled Draco Malfoy. He had a hand pressed tightly to the left side of his face with small rivulets of blood seeping in between his fingers. The blood was slowly dripping onto his crisp white button down. He was also wearing a pair pf black slacks that were rolled up past the ankle and no socks or shoes.

Harry scrambled. Grabbing he towel he had been using as a coaster for his tea cup.

“Malfoy? What the hell are you doing here?” He asked, approaching the injured boy. His words cause the blond to look at him with surprise.

“Potter.” His voice was calm but wavered slightly with barely controlled energy. “I could ask you the same question.” Harry snorted at his non answer and motioned him to drop his hand. He barely glanced at the injury before pressing the towel to the wound, putting pressure to stem the bleeding. His face looked like it had been cut, starting from the outside corner of his left eye and down to his jawline just outside the chin. There were also a number of smaller scratches that littered his cheek and forehead.

“Really. What are you doing here?” Draco insisted, swiping at Harry’s hand like an annoying fly. He grabbed the towel himself, wiping his dirty hand on his shirt. Harry wrinkled his nose but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to think how expensive that shirt would be.

“I have been living here for the summer.” He finally answered. “Why are you bleeding?” He sat down on the edge of the sofa.

“My father threw a 300 year old crystal tumbler at me. Caught me in his office. He was drunk enough to throw one of his favorite heirlooms, but sober enough to have decent aim.” With confident stride he went over to the liquor cabinet. He flicked open the door and dug deep into the cabinet with his unoccupied arm. First he pulled out an amber bottle, placing it so hard on the coffee table that it was still shaking when he turned back. Next he pulled out a simple pine box. He tucked it under his arm, grabbed a glass and slammed the door shut. Harry watched as he pulled out the cork with his teeth, splashed the liquor in his glass. Once it had been filled to generous two fingers he left the bottle, not bothering to even recork the bottle. He did this with all the quick and stabbing motions of a tightly-wound, adrenaline filled spring. He flopped down onto the couch with deceivingly relaxed lounge.

“Why where you in your fathers office?” Harry asked as he watched the other boy drink.

“For this.” Draco sneered, sticking his hand into his shirt. He pulled out a tightly bound sheath of parchment. He tossed them onto the table next to the box. Harry leaned forward and picked it up, unwrapping the hastily tied string to revel a parchment covered in numbers and notations. Not that Harry could really understand anything that he was reading but he could tell that it had something to do with money.

“You let yourself get hit in the face with a glass for some papers?” Harry grinned at the flash of annoyance that crossed the other boys face at being accused of letting _himself_ get hit in the face.  He stood up to grab the first aid kit that Snape had moved to the hall closet.

“I snuck into his office. That’s the reason he struck me. He didn’t know I had those papers. He would’ve done a lot worse if he had.” Draco replied, shouting so that Harry could hear him down the hall. Suddenly his lack of shoes made a little more sense. “Those papers are essential to my father downfall.”

“Your father’s downfall?” Harry quirked an eyebrow as he walked back in.

“That is a list of all of my father’s business deals. His _real_ business deals. Including bribes to government officials, pay offs, purchases of illegal items and a true account of his banking statements. For the past two years I have been making copies and storing them here. Collateral for later.” He accepted the three potions bottles. With skilled eyes he examined the different unlabeled bottles before quickly thumbing off the corks and downing them with a gulp. He drained the rest of his glass, swirling the drink around his mouth before swallowing it. He sucked his tongue against his teeth at the mixed tastes before leaning for the bottle again.

“Don’t you think Snape will notice?” Harry asked in regards to the bottle, watching as the other boy pour another generous glass.

“He hasn’t yet, or at least he hasn’t said anything yet.” Draco explained, swiping at the blood that had dribbled down to his chin. The cut was healing quickly but there was still a lot of blood that was flowing now that the towel had been tossed aside. “He got it as a gift years ago but doesn’t like the brand. Hell, he may be letting me drink it because he doesn’t want to.” Harry nodded at the explanation before a question popped into his head.

“Wait? Does your dad know that you are here?”

“No, he thinks I’m at Theodore’s.”

“Notts?”

“Yeah.”

“But what if he tries to find you? What if he calls them and they say that you are not there?”

“If my father bothers to call, not that he ever has before, Theo will say that I am there.”

“He will?”

“Well it is his day.” Draco drawled, leaning against the armrest so that his torso was facing Harry.

“His day.”

“We all have a rotation plan. If it is the first week of the month every even day I’m at Theo’s, odd days I’m at Daphne’s, on weekends I’m with Greg, Second week if it is an even day I am with Pansy, Odd days I am with Theo, on the weekend I am with Vincent. And so on so forth. Each one of them has their own schedule and rotation that is seemingly randomized. That way if a parent decides to check there will be a person there to conform but also, if they try to see if a friend is lying there won’t be any confused overlap.”

“That’s complicated.” Harry said in slight aw of the plan. Draco shrugged in a non-committal way.

“You do what you have to. No one wants their parents catching them doing something shady. We all have an understanding that if we all want to be protected then we have to work together.”

“You didn’t mention Zabini.” Harry noticed, sinking back into the cushions. The potions had done their work and he could not even see any evidence of the original wound except for the blood.

“Blaise? Nah, you can’t trust that fucker.” Draco snorted with derision. He placed his drink down and hefted himself up. He dragged the box to himself with a single finger. He tapped the box with his wand. The wood shuddered as it grew to twice its size. He opened the lid to reveal dozens of shrunken scrolls lining the bottom. It looked like there were enough papers to start a book.

“As opposed to the other Slytherins.” Harry joked lightly, ignoring the stink eye that he was given.

“Just because someone is ambitious, cunning, and sneaky doesn’t mean that they can’t be trusted. It just means that you need to figure out their beliefs in deals before you make one.” Draco explained, shuffling the papers in the box before slamming the lid shut.

“Beliefs in deals? What the hell is that?” Harry queried. Draco sighed in annoyance.

“People have different beliefs in how one makes a deal. For the most part a normal person makes a deal with the understanding that you try your hardest to honor your deal. That way people will trust you and that will be willing to work with you again. That it is normal to hold onto trust and to try and be trusted yourself. This is true for most, especially with Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. Slytherins though, well they have a bit more variation in the way that they think.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well for example. Some Slytherins may work on deals in an attempt to build trust with the understanding that they plan to betray you later on. You build up a base with someone using small, innocuous deals. Once the person trusts you to a certain level you can go and use that as leverage. Either to obtain secret information they would not tell other than a trusted ally or just a full on betrayal. If they trust you and believe that you follow through with your deals and bargains it will take them longer to catch you or they will proclaim your innocence themselves.

“Some, or should I say many, Slytherins believe all deals come with a caveat. That a deal will be upheld up until the point that the inconvenience of sticking to the deal outweighs the benefits of keeping that persons trust or the end results.” Draco explained, holding his glass by the rim with just his fingertips. He swirled the liquid around, no longer attempting to down the amber liquid as fast as he possibly could. “In that case there is an extra challenge. Because you have to figure out what a person considers an inconvenience. Is it money, time, reputation? And what would be the tipping point that it becomes too much. And also how a person would leave the deal. Will they try to make another one? Will they try to burn the deal and leave it as a pile of smoldering ashes? Will they try to make breaking the deal seem like the other parties fault?”

“Some people only make deals that they know will end up hurting the other party. Specifically using wording and contracts so that the other person will be forced to act in a way that will only hurt them. Others may make deals in a way that hurt themselves, setting them up as martyrs for a cause or to cast someone else in the role of the enemy. Politicians love that one. Regardless there are thousands of variations that you have to deal with and in Slytherin there is always the belief that you never go to the table without an escape exit and always assume the other person has one foot out the door.”

“That hurts my head.” Harry grumbled, though he couldn’t say anything to disagree with what he was saying.

“Zabini can’t be trusted because he doesn’t follow that model. It’s easier to make a deal when you know where a person stands and what they desire. Blaise, well he enjoys a challenge too much. He likes to make barters that he was every intention of breaking. He likes when his reputation for keeping a promise lessens because it makes the next deal that much harder to get and that much more satisfying to win. He goes out of his way to stir up drama. Causing drama can be a useful too. You never know when having the light shine on someone else can benefit you. But he just just does it for morbid curiosity which makes him chaotic. Definitely not worth the risk. These are traits he gets from his mother.” Draco sneered.

“That sounds . . . needlessly complicated.” Harry muttered.

“No truer statement could be said about Zabini, except to add that he tends toward vindictive sadist.”

“Is that why he was being such an ass last year?”

“Oh yes. With me staying in the background his normal entertainment was disappearing, so he decided to make some himself. I think he got a taste for it, taking a more active role. I would watch out for him.” Draco warned, biting his lip in contemplation.

“So what about you?” Harry asked.

“What about me?” He replied.

“How do you manage deals?” Harry pressed, smirking slightly.

“You aren’t subtle are you Potter?”

“I have never been accused of subtly before, why would I start now?” Harry quipped back. Draco quirked an eyebrow at him but smirked back at him.

“Well I will say that I am not a fan of Zabini’s approach. Other than that? Well I suppose you will have to figure out that yourself.”

“You sneaky bastard.” Harry groused but smiled any way.

“Thank you.” Draco toasted him. Harry chuckled. He settled back into the couch.

The boys chatted for hours. They spoke about the things they had done that summer. Apparently Lady Malfoy had gleefully taken the news of her husband’s impotence. She flounced of to Italy to spend the summer at their villa with her handsome gardener and a large purse of galleons that refilled whenever it got empty.

“She just left you behind?” Harry asked.

“Why would I want to go with her? We have nothing in common and I don’t want to watch her flirt with Gio all day.” Draco shrugged in response.

Meanwhile Lord Malfoy was dealing with his new found disability by drinking, raging and leaning heavily on his political pawns. As a result his criminal activities had increased leaving Draco with plenty of ammunition, and a few injuries to match. They continued to chat until the fireplace flared green again.

“Draco.” Snape acknowledged, barely blinking at the sight of the other boy. He didn’t even mention the half empty bottle of liquor or the fact that the boys shirt was covered in blood that they had not bothered to try and wash out. “Isn’t nearly time for you to return home for dinner?”

“Yes sir.” Draco agreed. He packed everything back into his box. He stood with only a small stumble. He placed the box in Snapes waiting hands before disappearing into the fire place with a little wave.

“That boy.” Snape muttered, flicking his wand so that the bottle and glasses would sort themselves away. The towel with blood was spelled into the fireplace and went to ash.

“He just showed up.” Harry said, half reporting fact half making an excuse.

“Yes, he is apt to do that. I would say it was because he was an only child but I have yet to see any young person who didn’t think that they had the right to stomp wherever they wanted with impunity.” Harry snorted at the derisive comment.

“So how was your meeting?”

“Unproductive at best.” Snape sneered.

“I’m sorry.” Snape just hummed noncommittally at the apology. Harry picked up his book and closed it properly, setting it on the edge of the table.

“Harry. . .” Snape paused to a moment, looking at him inscrutably.  “Before I came back today I spoke with the Headmaster.”

“What about.”

“You. It seems that he has decided to bring you from your home for the last part of the summer. He will be coming to pick you up from your Uncles house the night of your birthday.”

“Oh.” Harry sighed. He didn’t know how to feel. It was great that he was supposed to be rescued. He would probably spend the next few weeks with the Weasleys or with Sirius. And that made him really happy. But it also meant that he would have to leave the Dawsen-Snape household. He really didn’t want to leave. But there wasn’t much of an option. Dumbledore didn’t know he was here. If he wasn’t back at his uncle’s place when he showed up there would be a man hunt. Harry wouldn’t be able to stay hidden forever and Voldemort would be aware that he wasn’t in the safety of his home.

“You do not need to worry about your Uncle. He will be informed that under no uncertain terms what he should keep to himself. Alex will be there as his normal pest self to make sure that the transition happens smoothly.” Snape explained softly.

“Thank you.” Harry replied in the same tone. Snape stared at him for a moment more. He didn’t say anything, not offering false words or placating tones. Instead he turned towards the kitchen, getting ready to make dinner the way that he does every night. Harry slumped against the couch with a great sigh, staring at the ceiling as he listened to his professor moving pans and running water.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there. Thank you for all of your lovely reviews. I am hoping that I haven’t lost you with how long it’s been. The last three weeks have been . . . crazy. I was in the path of the hurricane (no damage to my house though). So the plant that I work at shut down completely (which if you know anything about the factory world is a big fucking deal). There was then start up and flooding. Overall it was a shit show. I like this chapter, though I took the cowards way out and haven’t put in Sirius yet. He, like Ron, is difficult for me to write. I’m going to give myself time to figure out what I want him to do. Please keep telling me what you think and asking your questions. I try to answer them as best I can, either in my notes or in the story.

Private Drive was as pristine a place as it ever was. All the gardens were perfectly groomed and each house had a new coat of paint. Families were quiet since it was dinner time and each one was now sitting around the table eating the perfect Sunday roast. Fuck, Harry hated it here.

He was walking up to Number 4 with his trunk dragging along behind him. Snape lead their group, looking menacing in his black suit, tightly buttoned, and billowing coat that was so similar to his robes Harry had done a double take. Alex walked one step behind and one step to the right. His pace was relaxed, though easily keeping up with his husband. He was wearing a white shirt with a light grey vest, matching trousers as well. He walked with his hands in his pockets and a small smile on his face like he was just one happy thought away from whistling a tune. Harry wished he could be so relaxed. Or even be able to fake a third of the happiness Alex was.

Packing up everything he had at the Snape-Dawsen household was a sad experience. First he packed everything he had brought. All of his old clothes, school clothes, textbooks and quidditch gear. Then he reverently packed up the new things. All of his new clothes, bottles of potions that he had made with Snape that he was allowed to keep a sample of, and books. He was tempted to steal the blanket from the end of his bed. To pack up the soft fabric and pull it out on nights where he felt sad and be enveloped in the light smell that would now be associated with home. In the end he left it there, closed up his trunk, and left the room.

Snape rapped sharply on the door twice. It was wrenched open by Vernon Dursley not a moment later. His face was red, from anger or the exhausting walk from the kitchen to the door Harry didn’t know. His pig eyes glimmered with anger when he spotted the group and he huffed his unhappiness.

“What do you want?”

“Did you not receive my letter?” Snape queried, tone flat and uncaring.

“Threw it in the fireplace.” Vernon blubbered back.

“Well regardless. Mr. Potter is here to be picked up by some people from his school. He will be waiting on the front porch for them and should be gone before 8:00.” Instead of saying anything Vernon slammed the door shut, rattling the house as he did. Harry snorted in derision, leaning his trunk against the stoop and sitting down.

“What a repugnant man.” Alex commented, flicking dirt from under his fingernails without a care.

“Probably the nicest thing you could have said about him.” Snape replied.

“Well I am British. We have manners even to those who don’t deserve it.” Snape didn’t comment, instead he just hummed in consideration and turned back to Harry.

“I will be leaving now. The Headmaster is still not aware of your departure from this place nor my involvement. Within the hour people will be arriving to pick you up. I think they will be using a portkey to bring you to the new location.” Harry tensed, his heart pounding at the thought of having to touch a portkey again. But in his ineffable way Snape had already knew what he was thinking and had a familiar bottle in between his fingers. Harry took the calming draught and put it away in his pocket. “Now you are still in danger so Alex will be staying with you in his animagus form. Remember the others do not know about him so it would be prudent that you don’t reveal his presence to anyone.” He said with a tone that finished with ‘if your tiny mind can handle something as simple as that’.

“Thank you, sir, for everything.” Harry said softly, trying to speak past the knot in his throat. Snape looked at him with an unreadable expression. For a moment it looked like he was going to say something but instead he just pulled his coat around him.

“No need to get so sentimental. We will most likely be seeing each other in the next few days. And if nothing else you will return to school in a month and you will most likely be seeing more of me than you would like to.” He sneered. Harry huffed a laugh at the typical response, sharing the humor with Alex who was standing off to the side. With a quick nod to his husband he disappeared with the sound of a car backfiring.

“If he weren’t a Slytherin I would wonder where he go this flair for dramatics.” Alex commented, grinning at Harry.

“I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be dramatic.” Harry said, sitting down on the stoop.

“Gryffindors are bold. Slytherins are dramatic.” As if to make his point Alex turned on the spot, flowing into his fox form. The little beast gave a joyful bark, turned twice and gave a floppy tongue smile. Harry laughed, gripping his sides. He watched as Alex began to run around the yard, diving head first into hedges and launching himself off of rocks. He ran around manically, acting more like a pup than a fox. Harry was smiling so much that his cheeks hurt. He was almost happy to give his cheeks a rest when Alex flopped onto his back in front of him, panting in little whines.

“I think you might be a bit out of shape.” Harry podded him with his foot. The little fox glared back but there was still the twinkle of humor in it. Harry let them lapse into silence. The only sounds around where the gentle sounds of nature moving, leave rustling and the breeze singing, as well as the quick pant of the winded lawyer.

“I wanted to thank you.” Harry said after quite a long time. “I don’t know if I would have been able to survive the summer without you. Or hell, the entire year. You and Professor Snape helped me with so much. I don’t think I would have been able to survive my own mid this summer.” Alex sat up, fixing large eyes on the boy. He padded up, dropping his head on Harry’s knees, and stared at his face as he spoke.

“Watching Cedric die was . . . horrible. You think that you can handle watching someone die, you know, before you actually have to do it. You expect to feel sad. To feel grief immediately and then maybe for a while afterwards. Maybe if it were a gruesome death you would feel disgusted.  But to actually see it. Its. .  . terrible. Maybe it’s because I saw it when I was fighting for my life but I didn’t feel sad. To feel so empty inside. Like I was hollow from the neck down. And then, even worse, I felt like that for days after. For a longtime I thought that I would never feel anything, the same way that I never felt true grief for my parents because I never met them. And that thought made me feel sick. Instead of feeling sick I felt nauseous.”

He remembered talking about it with Draco just days before he left Hogwarts. He had left his house in search of companionship. He didn’t want the pity from those in his house. Hermione was kind and soft, but her tiptoeing around his feelings only served to aggravate him more. Snape would have not been so soft with him, but he would analyze Harry. Pull him into a conversation that would end up in tears or something equally horrifying. So when Draco had happened to wander by, Pansy had been bothering him with Witch Weekly personality quizzes, and offered Harry a game of chess he accepted.  

Harry wasn’t great at chess. He wasn’t terrible and with enough concentration he could pull of a mostly successful trap against a less skilled player. Harry knew that he wasn’t an idiot and had some amount of cleverness to him. But his mind did not work well on long strategy. He was more of a quick thinker. When the decision needed to be made in a second, when the threat was right in front of his face. That was when Harry let his Slytherin side out. Chess wasn’t like that. If you weren’t playing ten moves ahead you were behind. It needed a vast knowledge of strategies and moves. Along with the ability to understand the thought process that your opponent used. So Draco was never surprised when Harry used his queen to jump straight into the fray, battering across the board with his bishops. Though Harry was always startled to find piece after piece being swiped from him by a knight or a rook that hadn’t been moved for five turns, laying in wait.

The two of them had pushed two tables together in an empty class room. Setting up the board in the middle and sitting on top with crossed legs. They jumped from topic to topic, ignoring the angry cursing from Harry’s pieces and the jeers from Draco’s. As they talked Draco smoothly steered the conversation to what had happened and how Harry was feeling about it.

“So Potter, how’s the head? Been crying a lot recently?” He said it with a little smirk. Harry scoffed at his causal way. Still, he told him. About how everything felt blunted. How Snape had said that he was in shock.

“Fine. I guess it hasn’t hit me yet. Kind of freaks me out that I have been this calm. To be honest. I wish I felt like normal people do.” Harry nudged a pawn forward towards its doom.

“That’s stupid.” Draco commented, tapping his knight on the head to move him to take a different pawn.

“What?”

“It’s stupid to want to feel the same as normal people.”

“Why would it be stupid? Normal people can feel their sadness and get over it. How is that bad?”

“Feeling the same as normal people means that you have only had experiences like normal people. Which in itself is not a terrible thing, but you lose your advantage. You don’t feel the same because you haven’t done the same. Numbness is self-preservation. You keep your feelings under lock down because it is a disadvantage. When you are trying to save your own life you can’t just burst into tears and eat ice cream. You don’t feel grief as deeply because it would be debilitating. Grief is a wall that you run at, it’s always going to stop you in your tracks. Having the ability to avoid that wall, to slip around it and keep moving. All it proves is that you have had to fight and have survived. Feeling normally would mean you never had that experience which gave you the ability to control those emotions. So when something really did happen, you would probably fail. Considering that your adventures normally come with a high fatality warning, I doubt you would still be here to whine about it.”

“So it may help me at the time.” Harry acquiesced. “But why does it come back? If anything I would prefer that it never came back. If I’m not going to feel like anyone else, why can’t I just not feel at all?”

“Really Potter. I was in the process of believing that you had some intelligent thoughts. Don’t ruin it for yourself.” He snarked back, rubbing his chin as he thought.

“For not wanting to feel? How is that bad?”

“To not feel is to be worse than dead.” He said it with full intensity, looking up to make sure that he had complete eye contact with the startled Gryffindor.

“Worse than dead?” Harry questioned.

“Far worse,” Draco dragged his thumb across his lip in consideration. Whether it was about his aborted move or the conversation Harry wasn’t sure. “Have you ever heard of sensory deprivation, Potter?”

“Not really?” Harry shrugged.

“It’s when someone is deprived of all their sense, though I’m sure you could have figured that out. It is a common type of torture. You are blindfolded so you can’t see anything.  You’re bound so that you cannot move. Ears plugged so that you cannot hear. Mouth gagged so you cannot speak. Do you know what happens to your mind when you start stripping away your sense?” Harry shrugged again.

“It eats away your brain. You hallucinate. You hear and see things that aren’t there but can do nothing to react to them. Anxiety takes control, exacerbating the fear and restlessness. You lose the ability to focus, to remember, and sometimes even speak. In desperation you scream and cry, struggle and beg.  Given long enough, the mind completely shuts down. The body yearns for stimuli and when it can’t it tries to create it. It will destroy itself trying to give you the sensation of feelings. Your soul is the same way. Instead of sensations like touch and sound, your feelings are the sensations that it craves. If you try and eliminate your emotions then your soul will react the same way. Eating itself trying to recreate what you are trying to eliminate. You have seen what happens to those who are kissed by dementors.  A person without a soul is a person who is worse than dead. A horrific punishment to be sure. To ask for that fate . . . it would just be better to be suicidal.” Draco sneered.

“How do you do that?” Harry sighed in an exasperated tone.

“Do what?”

“Have answers to obscure questions so in-depth you could write an essay on them without a moment’s notice. Speak like you are reading poetry or an old novel.” Draco chuckled.

“It is because we are different people. You see a problem and you react with action. Thrust yourself forward into the issue with your body and your wand. Just like your queen.” He followed the comment by nudging his bishop to take Harry’s queen which has been threatening his king. Harry cursed but accepted it, he never was able to keep his queen till the end of the game. “I like to think things through. I understand by stringing the words together until they make sense to me. This happens to be something that I have thought about before. To yearn to be emotionless. To have that protection against emotional pain the same way that you can take a potion and stop physical pain. We have had similar enough lives, you’re asking the same questions I have asked before. The poetry part? That is the unfortunately a result of my upbringing. Mother insisted on the poetry and it is infectious.” Harry had laughed along with him. It comforted him a bit, that the other boy had similar thoughts. Even if he wasn’t feeling like a normal person, the things he was feeling were normal to people in comparable situations. They eventually steered the conversation to safer territories. The idea that he did not want to have any emotions had been quelled.

“It wasn’t until later that I finally felt the grief.” Harry continued after he removed himself from the memory. “And it was so overwhelming, and yet so far away. I didn’t know how to handle it.” Harry thought back to the night when it first hit him. It was just as Snape had predicted before, that the shock would wear of and the grief would quickly come in and fill that chasm in an overwhelming tidal wave. He had woken up sobbing uncontrollably. So much so that he could barely draw in any breath at all, panicking at the feeling. Not for the first time Harry wondered if Snape was psychic because it wasn’t too long that the man was sweeping into the room. With a brusque, no nonsense tone he walked Harry through a number of breathing and relaxation techniques until he was finally calm enough to breathe and talk normally. To his relief Snape acted the same way that he always did when he was confronted by the crying boy, which happened far more often than Harry would admit to comfortably. With a calm presence and a mellow sympathy he pulled Harry out of the spiraling despair long enough that the boy was able to stabilize and pull himself out completely.

“If I had been here.” Harry motioned to the stock photo perfection of the neighborhood. “If I had been stuck in this place all alone. Forced to deal with the grief, with the agony, all on my own. No sympathy from my guardians, no contact with my friends.” Granted he didn’t have any contact with his friends over the summer, other than the odd meeting with Draco. The fact still annoyed him a lot. “I don’t think I would have made it through this with all of my sanity. So thank you.”

Alex didn’t comment. Not that he could have if he had wanted to, being a fox at the moment. Though that was one of the reasons that Harry had chosen that moment to make his little speech. It was easier on his nerves when he wasn’t speaking to a person but just to an animal, which is why he spoke so often to Hedwig. Any answer back, whether it be confrontational or placating would make him uncomfortable. It was easier when the audience could not respond at all. Alex seemed to sense this because he didn’t really make any indication that he heard the speech. Instead he yawned, showing all of his pointy teeth, before giving Harry’s hand a small lick and lying down for a nap. They stayed like that for fifteen minutes, quietly taking in the night. Harry glanced at his watch and was happy to see that the time was moving quickly. He decided now was the time to take the calming potion that he was given. There was no way he would be able to put hands on the portkey if he didn’t have the potion in his system. Suddenly Alex’s ear perked up, catching a noise that Harry hadn’t. Like a bolt of red lightning the little fox disappeared under a bush, vanishing like he had never been there. Not a moment later Harry heard a small amount of rustling. His wand slipped into his hand and he held it close to his arm so it would look like he was unarmed but could still attack in a moment. It was a habit he had picked up from watching Snape do it so many times. Not that he thought he was in danger, Alex wouldn’t have run off if that was the case, but it was better to be paranoid than dead. Snape would have been proud.

“Potter. Why are you waiting outside?” A gruff voice demanded. Three people were approaching the house and the leader was Mad-eye Moody. Harry immediately straightened in response to his old professor. Then he remembered that he never actually met the man who was standing before him. This Moody had apparently been locked in a trunk when Harry was at school. They found him while he was unconscious in the hospital wing. He was then immediately moved to St. Mungos for treatment. Rumor had that he barely stayed a day, refusing every potion and every spell.

“I was waiting.” Harry replied, a little annoyed at the accusation in his tone. Behind him stood Arthur Weasely, who waved at him with a quick hello that Harry responded to in kind. Looking behind them was a young lady with bright bubblegum pink hair.

“Wotcher Harry. I’m Tonks!” The woman, Tonks, announced with a wave. She stumbled over a crack in the side walk with a dramatic waving of arms. Harry stood and shook the proffered hand with a little enthusiasm.

“You shouldn’t be outside.” Moody growled, fixing his magic eye on Harry before scanning the area around them. Harry wondered if he could see Alex in the bushes. But Alex was smart and wouldn’t get caught that easily.

“I’m inside the wards. I doubt being behind a wooden door would really protect me all that much if the wards stopped working.” Harry sneered a little. Oh damn, he really was turning into Snape. Moody just fixed his gaze on him again, brows furrowing in aggravation.

“Well it doesn’t matter either way.” Arthur said in his placating way. “Harry it is good to see you. Are you ready to leave?”

“I am.” Harry said with a smile and a small amount of forced enthusiasm. He grabbed his trunk and took the few steps that was needed to get him to the little group that stood at the edge of the yard.

“We need to go. I can feel their eyes on us.”

“You’re paranoid Moody.” Tonks laughed, ruffling her hair as it shifted to a bright white with yellow tips.

“And I am still alive.” He growled back, thumping his staff on the ground.

“But not whole.” She quipped back, glancing heavily at his leg and then his eye. Harry had to hide his smirk behind his hand.

“Well then let’s be on our way.” Arthur interrupted again. He held out an old notebook in his hand for them all to touch. Harry hesitated for a moment, not long enough for anyone else to notice but it was there. Still he put two fingers on the book, his heart pounding wildly as a trickle of fear seeped into his veins. The pounding in his ears was so loud that he didn’t hear anyone say the password that activated the portkey.

The world swirled around him in a blend of water colors. The pressure pulled at his feet and chest, trying to rip him away from the worn leather. The magic kept his fingers attached, making his finger joints feel like they were being pulled apart from each other. His stomach clenched and rolled, causing pressure to move up from his chest into the back of his throat. His heart was still pounding, pulsing into his forehead making his head hurt and his body break out in a cold sweat. He knew that he was not going to land in the cemetery. There was no way that he would end up with his feet in that freezing grass with the headstones emanating that bone chilling cold. That didn’t stop his traitorous mind from pulling up those images in the front of his mind.

Suddenly his feet his the ground, shaking his body and rattling his bones. The air was chillier here, and wetter too. He took a look around and saw the tall town homes in the dim light. However he stood in front of an empty lot, a few piece of concrete with metal sticking out covered in green moss and little yellow weeds.

“Here we are.” Mr. Weasley said with his normal cheeriness. Harry pressed his palm to his stomach quell the rolling. He wasn’t going to throw up but he knew that if he had not taken the potion he might have. Snape must have added some mint as a stomach soother. He would have to ask him later.

“Here?” Harry questioned, looking at the lot the red haired man mentioned.

“Right, I forgot.” He held out a slip of paper that was covered in familiar writing.

_The Black Manor resides at 12 Grimmuald Place, London England._


End file.
